It's a Long Way to Tipperary
by Elfinium
Summary: Ok, still the ghost of Downton will not leave me alone! Five years on from the Christmas Special and a 'sort of' sequel to my previous story 'If you were the only girl in the world' Enjoy. x
1. Five Years On

**A/N I know, I know, I promised I would go and sit quietly after my previous epic. Unfortunately my muse didn't get the memo and would insist on poking me with a large pointy stick. Therefore in order to avoid permanent damage and unsightly bruising, I was forced (at stick point if you like) to write this. It is based on something said to me by TheOneAndOnlyALouse so in some ways she should shoulder much of the blame. :)**

**Please insert normal disclaimer here: I own nothing, know nothing and am getting paid for nothing!**

**The premise is we have borrowed Mr Wells' time machine and have whizzed forward approximately five years. That's all I am going to say.**

**Enjoy. x**

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><p>The unmistakeable sound of running feet caused Charles Carson to look up from his ledger. He couldn't imagine it would be any of the staff. He stepped out of his pantry and immediately collided with a small dark haired boy. A tousled head looked upwards into the stern face of the butler.<p>

"Now Master George, where would you be going in such a hurry?" Carson asked. "And why, I wonder, are you in the company of Miss Florence?"

The stolen doll was quickly hidden behind his back, but the child resolutely decided to say nothing.

"Master George Robert Crawley! You come back here this instant!" The cry came from the upper part of Downton Abbey. Nanny clearly was not pleased. The boy glanced over his shoulder nervously.

Carson raised his eyebrows in question, but George simply stared back defiantly. The corners of the butler lips twitched, he was so like his mother it was frightening.

With a wink, Carson nodded to indicate his pantry and the boy gratefully darted inside. Just as Nanny Stevens came down the stairs, he quietly closed the door.

The woman looked exasperated. "Mr Carson, have you seen Master George? He and Miss Elizabeth had a disagreement and he's taken her favourite doll."

"I don't believe I have Miss Stevens. He has probably run out into the gardens. I would try there."

The woman patted her prim bun. Everything about her was sharp, her nose, her chin, her eyesight… The woman had barely been here five minutes and Carson already knew how the children felt about Miss Stevens, and their feelings were not warm. She tutted crossly before heading out into the grounds.

The coast now clear, Carson returned to his sanctuary to find George sitting behind his desk.

"Now then young Sir, would you care to tell me what is going on?" Carson asked.

George climbed down from the chair. He was four but big for his age, and very fast, especially where contraband was concerned.

"Lily-beth was horrid to me, so I took Miss Florence and now I am going to bury her in the garden and Lily-beth will never see her again and she will be sorry because she's horrid and I hate her." The words came out in a rush.

"I see." Carson said, nodding. "And what was it Miss Lily-beth said?"

Elizabeth Violet Crawley was George Crawley's twin. As soon as she began to speak, she could not quite say Elizabeth, only Lily-beth, and this had become her pet name ever since. She was the complete opposite of her brother, with blonde hair in ringlets and piercing blue eyes. People often said of the twins that they were the epitome of the poem about little boys and girls, she was sugar and spice and he was frogs and snails. If Lily-beth was an angel, her brother was the devil himself.

"She said that she was a Lady and very important and I was just a… stupid boy. So I said that when I grew up I was going to be a great man and a soldier like Papa and she would have to do whatever I told her to, then she hit me over the head with Miss Florence so I grabbed her and ran down here."

"I see." Carson said again, seeming to give the matter some thought. "How would it be if you gave Miss Florence to me and I gave you a sixpence?"

The boy seemed to consider the exchange. "Are you going to give her back to Lily-beth?" He asked suspiciously.

"I am not sure his lordship would look very kindly on dolls being buried in his flowerbeds, even those belonging to horrid sisters."

George nodded in resignation and gave up the doll with one hand whilst holding out the other for his sixpence.

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><p>In the sitting room at Crawley House, Lady Mary Crawley was entertaining her grandmother.<p>

"So what is the opinion on your new maid? I hear she comes highly recommended." The Dowager Countess asked.

Mary sighed. "She seems nice enough, young and keen, but I have been used to Anna for so long, it will be hard to adjust."

"Well you did let the girl get married and that inevitably leads to children, which leads to losing ones maid…" Violet said primly as if it was Mary's own fault.

"I know, and I am happy for Anna, but… finding someone to replace her has been a trial."

The two sipped their tea as Nanny Stevens knocked on the door.

"Excuse me my lady, but I wonder if I could talk to you about Master George?" The woman said coldly.

The Dowager Countess and her granddaughter exchanged a look. "Speaking of trials…" The younger said under her breath.

"Very well Stevens." Mary said out loud as she put down her teacup, "What are we saying he has done this time?"

Folding her hands in front of her apron, the nanny began to recount the events of the day.

"… and now he had hidden somewhere in the Abbey and simply refuses to come to me when he is called." She ended bitterly.

"And who could blame him?" Violet said with a sly smile, which earned her a warning look from Mary.

"So what you are telling me Stevens is that, on a simple visit to his grandparents, _you_ have lost my son… again?" Mary fixed the woman with a steady gaze.

"No, your ladyship." The nanny squirmed uncomfortably, "Master George has chosen to hide to avoid reprimand."

"But you do not know where he is?" Lady Mary asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not at the moment. No."

"So technically we could say that you have lost him." She paused for a moment. "That comes as something of a surprise given your excellent references. I was lead to believe that there was nothing you couldn't handle, especially a four year old boy?"

"Well… I…" The unfortunate Stevens stuttered.

"My suggestion would be that first you find him, and then we can discuss the matter. I assume you at least know the whereabouts of my daughter?"

There was a squeal of delight from outside the sitting room. "Papa!"

"Does that answer your question?" The Dowager said with a smirk as she drank her tea.

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><p>Anna Bates had finished showing Sarah Smith around the house and they were now enjoying their own cup of tea in the kitchen. The new Lady's maid was petite with auburn hair curled up under her cap, her pale skin dotted with pretty freckles. She even played with her cup delicately.<p>

"We are a small household here, but a very friendly one…"

"You came from the big house though didn't you?" Smith asked.

"Yes, I came with Lady Mary when she married."

"Why would you want to?"

"I am very attached to her ladyship, so it was only natural to move with her. I don't live in, we have a cottage on the estate. My husband, Mr Bates, is Lord Grantham's valet." Anna said proudly.

"Isn't he the one who was in prison for murdering his first wife?" The girl asked wide eyed.

Anna stiffened. "He was wrongfully accused and acquitted." She replied icily. "Something for which I am very thankful to Lady Mary and her family, they never lost faith in his innocence."

Smith looked suitably embarrassed.

"Anyway," Anna continued, "You should find yourself happy here." She smoothed her apron over her growing bump. "I shall be staying on for the next few weeks to show you the way we do things."

"I'm sure I can manage…" Smith began.

"It is at Lady Mary's request." Anna said a little sharply.

"Papa!" The squeal was enough to pierce the eardrums.

A little blur of golden hair and white lace charged along the hallway towards the front door, to be caught in the arms of a man in a dark three piece suite. There was no doubt that this was indeed her Papa. He sported the same blonde hair and striking blue eyes.

Hanging up his hat, he carried the child into the house as she chattered excitedly.

"… and then George kidnapped Miss Florence and ran away and Miss Stevens was _so_ angry that her ears went _completely_ pink and now she is going to tell Mama and George is going to be in so much_ trouble_, Miss Stevens said that he was a monkey and should be sold to a circus… I heard her!"

"Did you indeed?" The man was saying, obviously trying not to laugh. "And what did I say about telling tales on your brother and Miss Stevens?"

The little girl looked down guiltily.

"More to the point, what did _you_ do to George to make him act that way?"

"Nothing…" She murmured as she played with the lapel of his jacket, still not looking at her father.

"Are you sure?" He asked tickling her stomach.

She giggled and squirmed.

"Elizabeth Violet…?" He said. This only produced more chuckles from the little girl.

He placed her on the floor as Anna and Smith appeared in the hallway to see what all the commotion was about.

"Ah Anna," Matthew Crawley said with a smile as he watched his daughter run up the stairs, still giggling. "I assume Lady Mary is at home?"

"Yes Sir, she is taking tea with the Dowager Countess."

Matthew made a face. "Crickey. Is there a council of war I should be aware of?"

Anna couldn't help her own wry grin. "I don't believe so Sir. May I introduce Miss Sarah Smith? She will be looking after Lady Mary when my time comes." She unconsciously stroked her apron.

Those piercing blue eyes were now focussed on the new lady's maid, and they almost turned her to stone.

"It's good to meet you… Smith. Of course, Anna will be sorely missed," He said affectionately, "but I am sure you will be very capable and I know both Lady Mary and I want you to be happy here."

Sarah Smith could do nothing but gape. She finally managed to avert her eyes long enough for a little bob of acknowledgement.

"Still," Matthew said with a sigh. "I suppose I had better face the music, it seems George has been up to his old tricks again." With that, he turned and headed towards the drawing room.

Smith watched him disappear through the door. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, it was as if there was nothing and no-one else in the world except for Mr Crawley, even saying his name in her head made her stomach flip.

Anna touched her arm. "Are you all right?" She asked.

"Y… yes." Smith replied.

"You don't need to worry about Mr Crawley, he is really very nice." Anna said kindly, imagining the girl to have been intimidated by the master of the house.

Smith managed a watery smile and followed Anna back towards the kitchen.

Nice? Sarah thought, Nice didn't even come close! He was totally perfect! Suddenly her new position had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.


	2. Love in the Afternoon

**A/N Now then... this chapter might be a little... um... well... um... how can I put it...? Um... George and Lily-beth weren't delivered by the stork or found in a cabbage patch... Do you catch my drift?**

**I do not advocate the use of technology in a cold shower... but you might want to stick a wet flannel in the refrigerator for a few minutes in preparation. Please do not read this if you are a) easily shocked b)young enough to still believe the above is how babies are made or c)you like your stories without the slightest suggestion of smut. If any of the above applies, please feel free to go and do something more wholesome and join us again for chapter 3.**

**To all of you who reviewed, favourited, alerted, or just had a little look while waiting for the bus. Thank you kindly, your support is so very very greatly appreciated. **

**Enjoy x**

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><p>"Ah Matthew." Violet said as the Downton heir entered the drawing room and tenderly kissed his wife's cheek in greeting.<p>

"Cousin Violet, what an unexpected pleasure. Will you be joining us for luncheon?"

"No… but that does not mean you are allowed to look so relieved." She said indulgently. She used her cane to get slowly to her feet. "I have promised to join Robert and Cora. Who knows I may even be able to locate my errant great-grandchild at the same time?" She chuckled.

With a final pointed look towards Mary, the Dowager Countess made her way to the door. "Don't worry, I shall see myself out." She said with a regal wave of her hand.

"Is luncheon nearly ready?" Matthew said, sitting in his favourite chair and opening the newspaper.

"It won't be too long."

He nodded and began to read. Standing by the window, Mary glanced at her husband happily engrossed in the daily news. With a mischievous grin, she moved over to the small footstool, making sure of course that it was within his eye line, and lifting her foot, raised her skirt just enough to playact straightening her stocking.

"I see things are still difficult in Ireland…" He said absently. As he turned the page Matthew glanced at his wife… the newspaper and Ireland were immediately forgotten. She checked the other stocking, this time allowing Matthew an even greater view of her long slender leg. He was competely transfixed.

"Do you know? I swear since the war, the quality of these things has completely deteriorated!" She exclaimed innocently, before making to walk past him, her hips swaying.

Matthew grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his lap.

"Why Matthew Crawley, pray what are you doing?" She asked with a giggle.

"If my wife feels that she is in someway being forced to wear sub standard garments, then I think the least I can do… no indeed… it is my duty, as her husband, to investigate."

"Well if it is your _duty_ Matthew…"

His hand began to explore the contours of her calf under her skirt. "This seems to be in order." He said briskly, making her laugh.

Nimble fingers began to creep slowly higher, past her knee and along the smoothness of her thigh, their eyes locked together in mutual desire as his touch became much more intimate.

"And what is your considered opinion?" She whimpered.

"Quite... perfect…"

Mary leant into him as they came together in a passionate kiss. Practised lips parted and tongues entwined. Her fingers locked together in his hair; she pulled him closer, as if such a thing was even possible.

Breaking apart he buried his face in her neck as she arched her back. "Oh God Matthew…" She moaned.

There was a short, sharp knock before the door opened and Smith walked in. She stopped in horror, before mumbling something and turning away.

Mary leapt from Matthew's lap and straightened her skirts whilst trying to regain her composure. He stood quickly and strode over to the window; his back to the unfortunate maid so as to hide the rush of blood which had risen to his face and... elsewhere.

"Yes Smith… what is it?" She snapped.

"Um… I …. Um…. Mrs Bird… um… asked me to tell you…. um… luncheon…" The poor girl tailed off.

"Could you please tell Mrs Bird to hold off on luncheon for another hour?"

"Two." Matthew said quietly.

Mary could not help but smile at his comment. "For two hours please Smith."

"Very good my lady." The girl bobbed once and bolted out of the room.

Alone again Matthew caught Mary's eye and they both burst with embarrassed laughter.

"Well that was awkward." Matthew said eventually. "On her first day too, the poor girl! Do you think she will be horribly shocked?"

"I expect so. I will talk to her later." She took his hand. "But at this precise moment, I believe there was an duty to be undertaken, and it should definately be completed somewhere a little more private."

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><p>Smith returned to the kitchen completely flustered, her face red with embarrassment. Anna and Mrs Bird looked up as she closed the door.<p>

"Whatever is the matter?" Anna asked.

A small smile of realisation crept across Mrs Bird's face, which she quickly changed for one of mock disapproval.

"You did tell Sarah about the ten second rule didn't you Anna?"

The blonde maid's hand came to her mouth. "Oh no! I completely forgot."

"What's… what's the ten second rule?" Sarah said, still obviously in shock.

"When you are about to enter a room and you think Mr Crawley and Lady Mary are alone, it is a good idea to knock and then wait for a count of ten before you go in." Anna explained. "I am so sorry; I should have mentioned it, but…" She looked to Mrs Bird for support.

"But you would think after five years the novelty would have worn off by now." The cook said sharply.

"I suppose we are just so used to it." Anna said apologetically.

"We should be." Mrs Bird began to put things away. "It was a lot worse when they first married. I'm not surprised they had twins, in fact, it's a wonder that we are not up to our ears in Crawley children!"

Anna couldn't help but smile at the memory, before her guilt returned for the shaken lady's maid. "I am so sorry." She said. "How bad was it?"

"Um..." The young woman was not sure what to say.

"How long am I to delay luncheon?" Mrs Bird asked wearily.

"Two hours." Smith managed.

The two older women exchanged a glance. "That bad." They said together.

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><p>With Miss Elizabeth left safely in her nursery, Yvette Stevens stomped back towards the Abbey. She always left her encounters with Lady Mary Crawley in a foul temper. How was it that she felt perfectly justified in complaining about the behaviour of that little horror, only to have it turned around as if it was her fault? The child was completely out of control. When she got a hold on him, this time Master George Crawley would be fully and properly punished.<p>

Thomas Barrow was equally unhappy with his lot in life. "I'm just saying it's unfair. I was his lordship's valet, then old hop-a-long comes back and suddenly I am out on my ear. He's not going to get away with it, I know that much."

"At least you still have a job. Perhaps you should be grateful for that, considering some of the stunts you've pulled over the years." O'Brien snapped, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Talk about Pot calling Kettle."

Rounding the corner to the servant's yard, Stevens noticed the Lady Grantham's Maid and one of the footmen surreptitiously smoking. They looked up warily as she approached.

"I don't suppose you have seen Master George running around?" She asked.

"The brat's gotten away from you again then?" Thomas said waspishly.

Unbeknownst to him, the same 'brat' was currently hiding behind the packing cases in the yard. He had been waiting for the two smokers to go back into the house before making good his escape.

The nanny took a cigarette out of her apron. "Any chance of a light?"

Thomas handed her a box of matches, a look of surprise passed between the two Downton staff as the nanny inhaled gratefully.

"He was off like a whippet. I swear that child needs to meet the wrong end of a birch and perhaps that will teach him some manners." Stevens threatened.

Behind the cases George gasped involuntarily, before clamping his hand over his own mouth.

"What was that?" The nanny said, her sharp ears listening for any repeat of the sound.

"You're getting paranoid Miss Stevens." O'Brien said.

"I could have sworn…" She said looking around.

"If the little monster had come past we would have seen him." O'Brien said, before crushing out her cigarette. "But I am sure you are welcome to hang around here and see if he turns up." With a fleeting look at Thomas she returned to the house.

"I don't think she likes me very much." Stevens said, her eyes narrowing against the smoke.

"I wouldn't worry about it; she doesn't like anyone very much." The footman replied.

Stevens shrugged.

"So how are you getting on in the den of iniquity?" Thomas asked.

The nanny raised her eyebrows.

"What?" He said, "It's no secret!"

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><p>Reclining in the crumpled white sheets, they lay curled together, Mary with her back to Matthew, his arms cradling her.<p>

"We agreed this could not keep happening during the day." She said dreamily.

"Hmmm?" He brushed her hair aside and nuzzled the nape of her neck, the sensation of his breath causing her to shiver involuntarily.

"We said, it was not right, with the children getting older…"

Featherlike kisses were being placed carefully along her shoulder and up towards her ear.

"Uh… huh…" He murmured.

"And we have been married for five years…"

"Five years… yes…" His hand began to roam over her skin as the pressure of his kisses increased. She wriggled backwards against him and was rewarded with a low groan of pleasure.

"And if one is to make a resolution to do something…" She gasped as his attentions became more insistent. "…should always endeavour not to break it." She finished breathlessly.

His lips nibbled her ear lobe. "I quite agree…" he whispered, she could feel him smiling. "Even so… Shall we break it again?"

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><p>Matthew sat on the edge of the bed and buttoned his waistcoat. His wife, now wearing her robe, curled up by the pillows, her hair, tied loosely, lay over her shoulder.<p>

"Should I ask Anna to come up?" He asked.

"Yes… no, could you ask Smith. I suppose I ought to talk to her."

He merely nodded in agreement.

"I had a letter from Sybil." She said.

"Really?" He turned his head to look at her. "How are they?"

Mary frowned and played with the sheet. "She doesn't really say, but from her tone I can tell she is worried."

"You only have to look at the newspaper to see things over there are going to get a whole lot worse before they get any better. Just out of a civil war, the country is virtually starving." He agreed.

"The thing is… she was wondering if she could send little Michael here… just until things pick up? Sybil will of course stay with Branson; she writes that there are so many people sick from malnutrition and disease that she is needed. Granny and I thought that it would be an excellent idea for him to stay with us… Papa is still a little reticent about having a Fenian grandchild and it would be unfair to have the boy rattling around in that big house with no-one to entertain him. We do after all already have Stevens and with the twins…"

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "I see. Was that what this afternoon was all about, a plot between you and cousin Violet to get my approval by hook or by crook? Not that I am complaining." He teased.

"Of course not…You wouldn't have said no anyway, would you?" She retorted in the same playful tone.

He leant across and kissed her gently. "Would I have had a choice?"

"He will be arriving the day after tomorrow. Granny is arranging for her and Edith to meet him at Liverpool. They will stay overnight, and then drive him back here."

Matthew shook his head, he couldn't help but smile. Some things absolutely never changed. The Crawley men might be allowed to feel that they had their fingers on the pulse of the family but it was the ladies of the house of Grantham who plotted and schemed to enable the heart to remain steadily beating.


	3. Uncomfortable Conversations

**A/N Have we all suitably recovered? Deep breaths everyone and think of something pure like puppy dogs and ribbons and Cliff Richard. So, onwards we go with out little tale. We have a little excursion in this chapter so please make sure you have your passports ready.**

**Again, I would like to offer my huge thanks for everyone who is watching my little adventure, reviewing, reading and contributing. It is that which makes for my speed in updating - so if it is too often you only have yourselves to blame. ;) But seriously, thank you.**

**Enjoy. x**

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><p>"Um…Smith, do you think you could attend to Lady Mary?" Matthew asked with slight embarrassment as he passed the two maids on his way to the dining room. At the same moment, the bell rang for his wife's room.<p>

The tiny girl bobbed in reply before racing up the stairs.

"Lady Mary asked for just Smith sir?" Anna said, a little surprised.

It was not lost on Matthew how the older maid must feel. Having been his wife's confidant for so long, she was bound to be a little upset, especially since they had been through so much together.

"I would not take it personally Anna." He said kindly. "There was an… um… incident earlier and I think Lady Mary wants to talk to the girl."

She seemed to accept this.

"Plus, you don't really want to be running up and down stairs in your condition."

Again Anna nodded. "Of course not." She did appreciate that in most households, the moment her pregnancy became known she would have been dismissed instantly. It was so like Lady Mary, having experienced it first hand, to realise that just because a life was growing inside you, it did not mean you became useless. However, that was exactly how she felt at that moment.

"Do you think you could let Mrs Bird know we will be ready for luncheon shortly?" Matthew asked, interrupting her thoughts.

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><p>Sarah Smith was slightly out of breath as she reached her ladyship's room. She didn't know whether it was the stairs or the fact that he had spoken to her so soon after… She felt her cheeks burn at the memory of what she had seen. In truth it had not been much, but her imagination had filled in the details.<p>

It was something completely new to the young girl. She was only sixteen and had been an only child of a war widowed mother. In her previous household she was one maid amongst many, and her employers were never even known to be in the same room together if they could possibly avoid it, let alone… again the fire claimed her face. Of course she had heard the other girls talking, and had giggled over silly stories in the hapenny magazines with her room mate, but for someone like him to… and frankly, Lady Mary Crawley terrified her. She took a deep breath and entered the bedroom.

Lady Mary sat at her dressing table. "Ah Smith."

It was again impressed upon Mary how difficult this change was going to be. On previous occasions, and she had to admit there had been many, Anna would simply come into the room and act as if it was completely normal to find her mistress in her nightwear in the middle of the afternoon. She supposed given their long association and the fact that Anna too was a married woman, it was unlikely that the older maid would be scandalised. There was even the address. It had not occurred to Mary to call the new girl by her first name, but somehow, to both herself and Matthew, Anna had always remained just Anna.

"The blue day dress I think." She said, watching the maid closely in the mirror. She noticed the girl did not catch her eye; she did however keep glancing furtively towards the dishevelled bed.

"I suppose you are a little shocked?" Lady Mary said in clipped tones as she stood to be dressed.

"My lady?"

"My husband and I are fortunate in that we do get along jolly well." Mary said. There was a slight irritation in her voice that this should even need to be mentioned. "Is it going to be a problem?"

There was no doubting the inference of those words. There were plenty of young women who would kill for the opportunity of Lady's maid to the future Countess of Grantham if it was.

Smith swallowed. "No milady." She said timidly.

"Good!" Mary collected an earring from her dressing table and put it on.

Not for the first time, the new maid wondered how on earth this cold woman could 'get along jolly well' with anyone, especially someone as charming and amiable as Mr Crawley. Her head was already filled with fairy stories where the dashing prince would rescue the maiden from the clutches of evil before rendering her senseless with a kiss. Her mother had often chided her for daydreaming, and now she had a perfect model for her hero, but there her education ended and what she had seen today had definately peaked her curiosity.

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><p><strong>Dublin, Ireland.<strong>

Sybil Branson came through the front door of the small Georgian House. The hospital was getting busier by the day and she was exhausted. Tom walked through from the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up; he was wiping his hands on a cloth.

"You're very late." He said without warmth.

"Yes, I'm sorry." She kissed his cheek. "We had another influx of people coming from the countryside. Those poor souls are barely skin and bone, it was all we could do to make them comfortable. Did you collect Michael from your mothers?"

"I did… when were you going to tell me you planning on sending him away?"

Sybil froze. This was the moment she had been dreading. She took off her nurse's cape to buy time before answering.

"You had a letter from your sister Mary confirming the details." He continued.

"That was a private letter…" Sybil began crossly, although she knew she had no right to go on the offensive.

"This is his home Sybil…" Branson said, clearly trying to control his temper.

"It will only be for a little while. He will have a chance to get to know my side of his family, his cousins and grandparents. It will be a good experience." She said brightly as she headed towards the parlour.

Tom grabbed her arm, not roughly but firmly enough to stop her.

"He's staying here." He said

She pulled away, her eyes suddenly filled with previously suppressed anger and fatigue. "All through the troubles, you wanted him here and he stayed, all through the civil unrest, two painful years, you needed your son here… we didn't see you for weeks on end, we didn't know if you were alive or dead, but he _had_ to stay in Ireland and I complied with your wishes. Do you have any idea how many children I am seeing everyday who are barely able to stand through lack of food or sickness? And now you want us all to move north, so you can play your part in the fight there, and it is going to be bloody! Michael has seen enough fear and misery in his short life. God knows, he is the world to me and it will break my heart to part with him, but he is too precious and I will not stand by any longer and let you make my innocent baby another victim in your stupid, stupid war!"

Tom stepped back as though he had been physically slapped.

His wife took a deep breath and calmed herself. "I'm sorry, but enough is enough! We have a choice to be here, and I will remain true to you, but you and I have seen peace. All Michael has ever seen is war, he's had no choice. I want him to be safe from disease, have enough food to fill his belly and be allowed to play and grow without fear."

"Ma?" The little boy in question had arrived at the bottom of the stairs and was rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Oh, my darling, did we wake you?" Sybil cooed, rushing to scoop the child up into her arms. "Let me take you back to bed and I'll read you a story."

Michael Branson laid his head on his mother's shoulder and stuck his thumb in his mouth sleepily. With a final determined glance at her husband, she began to climb the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>Downton Abbey<strong>

George was cornered, and he knew it. Behind him was the door to the dining room. He could hear voices inside, one of them sounded like great-granny. He knew that he was _never_ to disturb the grown ups. 'Children should be seen and not heard.' That was a mantra repeated constantly by his previous nanny.

In front of him, and slowly advancing, was Miss Stevens. She was angrier than he thought he had ever seen her before.

"Got you, you feral little creature." She growled.

His eyes darted back and forth. There had to be a way out, if he could just get home to Anna or down the back stairs to Carson… but there was no escape.

"This time you are going to learn the consequences of your actions my boy." Stevens said ominously. George backed against the door, his heels clipping the wood as the hated nanny stepped closer still. He moved to run past her, but she was ready and grabbed him roughly by the arm, she bent until her nose was inches from his face. "You are going to find out what happens to horrible little boys who won't do as they're told."

"And what is that exactly?" Came a voice from behind her.

Stevens turned slowly to face Lady Edith Crawley. The middle daughter of the earl of Grantham was clutching a book and looking at her almost impassively.

"Master George has really been quite impossible today Milady." Stevens flustered.

"Even so, he is only a four year old boy… is it quite necessary to almost wrench his arm off?" Lady Edith had strong opinions about nanny's and governesses, Stevens reminder her of far too many of her own.

"I simply did not want him to run off again." Stevens said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice, but releasing her grip.

"Why don't I have a little chat with George and see if we can't get him to mend his ways?" Edith said pleasantly enough, but there was an unmistakeable edge to her tone.

Aunt Edith held out her hand and George ran to her gratefully. "You don't have to worry; I will return him to my sister a little later." She said as she led her nephew towards the library. Just as the door was about to close, George turned to look at the disgruntled nanny… and stuck out his tongue.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile in the dining room, Violet Crawley was for once rendered almost speechless.<p>

She looked at her son as though he had completely taken leave of his senses.

"It's true Mama." He said dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

"But… surely… goodness, that man has had more reappearances than that ridiculous Houdini fellow…" The Dowager Countess said in astonishment.

"I know." Cora said conspiratorially, "Apparently he is retiring from the day to day newspaper business and has decided to come to the country with his new bride."

"But here? _We_ won't have to have anything to do with the man surely?" Violet said.

"Certainly not." Robert snapped.

"Although I do hope he's had the decency to redecorate the house." Cora said with a slight twinkle in her eye.

"And it does make one slightly curious to see what the girl looks like…" The Dowager agreed with equal wickedness.

Robert looked from one woman to the other in disgust. "I will not have that man discussed in this house as if he was some idle neighbour to gossip over. Considering the trouble he has caused us and the bounder's behaviour, especially to Mary, I would think you would both be of the same opinion?"

The two Countesses managed to look a little sheepish.

"However," Cora said seriously, "Mary and Matthew will still need to be told."


	4. Worse than a Tiger?

**A/N There have been complaints... Apparently I did not give sufficient warning about the special guest star in my last chapter... It's not my fault. You see I have suspected for some time that my muse may not be the full shilling. It has developed a somewhat evil glint in it's eye and today I swear I heard it snigger. This is not going to bode well for us people... So, I will endeavour to be more careful to ensure that you are sufficiently prepared for what may come.**

**Thank you again to everyone who is bobbing along with us in this little boat of lunacy. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. :)**

**This chapter is rated T as in you may well need a strong cup of it. **

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>"Lady Edith, Milady." Moseley said quietly as the middle Crawley daughter entered her sister's drawing room. She had George by the hand.<p>

"Edith." Mary said in acknowledgement before bending to be at eye level with her son. "And where do you think you have been all afternoon young man? Nanny Stevens has been absolutely beside herself!" She said sternly.

"Sorry Mama." He said, almost managing to pull off a contrite expression that was so like his father that Mary's heart melted instantly.

"It's all very well being sorry." She said, her tone much softer. "But what would have happened if you had been eaten by a tiger, we never would have known where to find all the left over bits!"

The little boy giggled in amusement at the thought of a George eating tiger roaming the grounds of Downton Abbey. Mary knew such things had amused her at the same age. The corners of her mouth twitched, but she managed to try and remain strict.

"Your father is in his study and I think he may well want to speak to you George." She said.

"Papa?" The little boy's eyes lit up. Rather than dreading a visit to his father's study, it seemed to the child that this alone time with Matthew was a treat to be savoured. He turned quickly and ran from the room.

"I fear that child will grow up to be quite beastly." Mary said in resignation.

"He is his Mother's son." Edith replied. The two sisters exchanged small smiles. As the years had passed, their bickering had become almost an amusing sport that both enjoyed, but it had long ago lost its bite and malice.

"Thank you for bringing him back." Mary said, indicating a chair. "Where ever did you find him?"

"About to be eaten by that awful Nanny. Honestly Mary, I don't know where you found her but she reminds me exactly of Frauline Kelder"

"I know, I see that too, but the children do need someone firm to guide them. I am afraid we spoil them far too much…"

"She was threatening to do something awful to him; I just caught her in time."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I will speak to her. Thankfully I can manage to discipline a Nanny, even if I can't quite manage it with my own offspring."

Edith seemed to be fidgeting nervously in her chair.

"Is something wrong?" Mary asked.

"No." Her sister looked almost guilty.

"Edith what ever is the matter, you are really making me quite giddy."

The younger Crawley hesitated, clearly unsure what to say.

"Well spit it out then!" Mary said sharply.

"James is coming back." She gushed. "He is arriving from India on the twenty third and asks if he might come to Downton for a visit."

"James? James Lansdowne?" Mary said in some surprise.

"Yes!"

"And what did you say?"

Here Edith squirmed even more. "I haven't said anything yet. He says to write care of his parents. Oh Mary, what am I going to do?"

* * *

><p>Matthew looked up as the small knock came on the door of his study.<p>

"Come in." He said.

George opened the door and walked towards his father's desk.

Matthew watched the boy with such a stern look on his face that his son actually began to worry.

"Am I in trouble Papa?" The child said.

"I don't know George. Do you think you _should_ be in trouble?"

George shrugged his shoulders and looked at his shoes.

"Do you think a brave man is someone who runs away and hides when he fights with his sister?"

The little boy shuffled his feet. "No Sir." He muttered.

"Good so we will agree on that." Matthew picked the boy up and placed him on his knee. George leant against his father shoulder affectionately.

"So what was it your sister did or said to make Miss Florence such an unfortunate victim?" Matthew asked.

George squirmed uncomfortably.

"There is a difference between telling tales and answering a question George." His father added.

"She hit me over the head with the stupid doll." The little boy muttered.

Matthew suppressed a grin. "Ah well," he said seriously as he got to his feet, lifting George with him. They crossed to the bookcase. Reaching up, he took down his old tin helmet. Inside were some lead soldiers. George picked up the toys as Matthew placed the too big helmet on his son's head. "Now you are properly prepared." He said, as he sat back down with George on his knee.

"Sometimes it is difficult I know. Your sister has the unfair advantage of being a Crawley woman, which is a breed to be feared throughout the land."

The boy looked up into his father's face, as he fiddled with the toy soldiers...

"Worse than a tiger?" He asked in wonder.

"Far, far worse than an… um… pack of tigers, when roused." Matthew said seriously, albeit confused at the reference. "However, we have an even better end of the arrangement…"

"Why Papa?"

"Because you, my boy, and I are blessed with them and as Crawley men, we are naturally disposed to love them, even if they do occasionally hit us over the head."

* * *

><p>"You promised me you wouldn't laugh." Edith said petulantly. Unfortunately Mary had been unable to stop herself.<p>

"I promised nothing of the sort, I said I would try… and I really did."

"You failed." Her sister retorted, there were the beginnings of a pout.

Mary composed herself. "Well honestly darling, we did all wonder why, when James proposed, you wouldn't take him. Why didn't you come to me at the time?"

"Because if you recall, we were not exactly confidantes… and I knew you would laugh at me."

The elder Crawley nodded, this was true, it had been a gradual process, but relations had become much better with her sister once they were no longer sharing the same cage, albeit a gilded one.

"I was going to ask Sybil, but she hadn't managed to get home again since your wedding and there was no-one else and I think I just kind of panicked. It's not like I could ask Mama or…"

"Granny." Mary finished for her. They both couldn't help but chuckle at the image of that conversation.

"I see, so I am your last desperate hope?" Mary said, arching an eyebrow.

"James was so upset and I obviously couldn't tell him why, and before I could decide what to do, he'd gone to India."

"Yes," Mary agreed. "That was rather impressive; I could only manage to drive Matthew as far away as Manchester."

"And France."

Mrs Crawley nodded a little sadly, that was not a time she wished to remember, a time when the happiness she now knew had seemed completely impossible. The memory made her a little more sympathetic to her sister's dilemma.

"Does he write that he is still available? We are not going to have him turn up with a wife or a fiancée are we?"

"He would have mentioned it, I am sure." Edith said. She took the letter out of her pocket and smoothed it nervously.

"You think he wants to know if you have changed your mind?"

The fair haired woman raised her eyebrows, her shoulders twitching slightly.

"And have you?"

"I… um… I wanted to marry him at the time… It's just... the rest of it was... so… terrifying." Edith admitted. "What if I am not very good at it?" Her eyes widened in genuine worry.

"My darling, first of all, no-one is any _good_ at it."

"But… you and Matthew…"

Mary chuckled. "Absolutely hopeless. I think we spent more time in fits of laughter than anything else. But that helped. It meant we weren't afraid to communicate our… preferences. And with practice we very soon got the hang of things."

"But you seem to be immediately expecting?" Edith asked, clearly not aware how the two could be mutually exclusive.

Mary gave a wry smile. "As I said, you learn. If we had known then what we know now…"

This left Edith even more confused. "But what about…?" The name remained unspoken.

"Mr Pamuk?" Mary looked a little sad. "That was a completely different experience. I was not so much a part of the action as the source of it. It was forbidden and I suppose that made it exciting but with Matthew it is always so… utterly delicious."

* * *

><p>Outside the drawing room door, Sarah Smith had been listening as she supposedly dusted. The hall side table had received an awful lot of attention.<p>

"Sarah!"

The poor girl nearly jumped out of her skin.

Anna was looking at her quizzically over the top of a tea tray for the mistress and her sister. "What ever are you doing?" The older maid asked.

Sarah simply bobbed up and down.

"Never mind." Anna said wearily. "Can you take a cup of tea in to Mr Crawley please?"

* * *

><p>There was a knock on the study door. George lay on the rug, the tin helmet still on his head, playing with his soldiers. Matthew sat at his desk working.<p>

"Come in." He said absently and continued with his letter.

When nothing happened, he looked towards the door expectantly. "Come in!" He called louder.

The door opened very slowly as Smith peeped into the room.

"I've brought you a cup of tea sir." She said shyly.

"Thank you Smith."

She ventured into the room. However, what she hadn't seen was the little boy lying on the floor. Her foot caught under his outstretched leg and she plunged forwards, throwing the full teacup across the room.

In a split second Matthew was on his feet and caught the girl before she fell headlong into the fireplace.

"I am so sorry Sir." She babbled. It was as if her skin was burning through her dress where he'd touched her, it was only for the briefest moment. She was falling and suddenly he was there, and it had been barely anything, but …his hands… on her, her! He'd saved her! The endings to a million romantic stories raced through her head.

"Don't worry about it. It is entirely George's fault, isn't it George?" Matthew said, completely oblivious to the effect he was having on the girl.

The little boy mumbled something, which could possibly have been sorry.

"It was my f… fault sir… I am so sorry… I should have seen… I will…" She was so flustered, embarrassed and… so many other feelings she had never experienced before.

Matthew bent and picked up the fallen teacup. Sarah couldn't help her eyes wandering to him, the way his jacket didn't nearly do enough to hide the contours of his shoulders, the tiny little golden hairs at the base of his neck and those strong hands as he collected the crockery. She thought about what she'd seen earlier and felt her face on fire as the blush shot to the roots of her hair, those hands...

"George can you run to the kitchen and ask Mrs Bird for a cloth to clean up this mess?" His father instructed as he stood. He turned to the dumbstruck maid. "You are having quite the first day aren't you?" He said kindly, mistaking the cause of her discomfort completely.

"Is everything all right?" Miss Stevens asked briskly as she appeared in the open doorway having seen George disappear at high speed. Her sharp eyes took in the apparently concerned master and the completely disintegrated maid.

"Quite all right Stevens." Matthew replied. "Smith had a little accident with a particularly feisty cup of tea, but there was no harm done."

Smith took the opportunity to flee from the room with her customary bob. The Nanny particularly noted the girl's flushed features and breathlessness.

"By the way Nanny Stevens. I have spoken to George and I think he has seen the error of his ways." Matthew said matter of factly.

The prim woman's mouth settled into a slit which suggested she very much doubted it. "Very good sir." She said, barely moving her lips.

As she walked away the corners of that same mouth turned upwards, ever so slightly, into a smirk. 'Now that was interesting.' She thought.


	5. New arrivals

**A/N Thank you everyone who has been so sweet about my story so far. I do so appreciate your support.**

**Just so you know, my Muse had developed a bit of a nervous tic as we completed this chapter. I am actually getting quite concerned.**

**Therefore, I would rate this chapter O for Ooooooh? and possible a D as in Didna see that coming!**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>"This is your cousin Michael." Edith said. The five year old Michael Branson looked at the twins owlishly. "Michael, this is George and Elizabeth."<p>

The two Crawley children stared back with curiosity. Edith glanced at her sister in concern.

"Why don't we let them get acquainted while we have some tea?" Mary said with practised brightness. Edith did not seem convinced.

"He will be perfectly fine my dear." Violet snapped. "It's not as though they are _actual_ savages."

"Granny?" Mary exclaimed.

"What my dear?" The old woman placated. "I was saying they _weren't_ savages."

Mary gave her grandmother a sharp look as she led Aunt Edith away. She glanced back nervously at Michael who had now resorted to placing his thumb firmly in his mouth.

"It's just he has barely said anything since we collected him." Edith said worriedly.

"That alone is a virtue." Violet said primly. "I have quite warmed to the child, even if he is from the loins of a socialist."

"Edith, it is all going to be a little strange for him at first, but children are remarkably adaptable. I am sure George will have him up to mischief in no time." Mary said, as she closed the door to the nursery.

* * *

><p>Michael glowered at the twins over his fingers. Lily-beth regarded him seriously with a look that suggested she wasn't impressed with what she saw. George on the other hand decided to try and emulate the way his father behaved on meeting a stranger.<p>

"George Crawley." He said holding out his hand in greeting. Then, for want of memory as to what actually should be said next, he added. "I'm four."

Michael looked at the hand as if he had never seen one before.

"Nanny says that little boys who suck their thumb have all their teeth fall out." Lily-beth said nastily.

"Bon't." Michael said, the thumb still in place.

"Don't mind her, that's Lily-beth and she's a rotten sneak." George said. He was slightly upset that his attempts at good manners had not gone to plan.

"I am not!" She said smacking George on the arm.

The little boy glared at his sister. "Are too!"

Michael took his thumb out of his mouth and held his own hand out to George. Mightily pleased, his cousin took the offering, even though it was a little wet and dribbly. He also took the opportunity to stick his tongue out at his sister. She turned away in disgust before climbing onto the rocking horse.

* * *

><p>Sarah Smith was gazing out of the window as she sewed. There was a flash of a dark suit outside. Her heart began to race; perhaps he had come home early? Almost straining her neck she tried to get a proper look at the gentleman. Deep inside her she knew it was wrong, but she simply couldn't help herself. Disappointment hit her like a train as she realised the man was walking towards the rear of the house and he was using a stick.<p>

"Anna." She called, "A man has come."

The older maid came through from the parlour and glanced out of the window, her face lit up. "It's my husband, Mr Bates." She explained before slipping out of the back door to meet him.

"Anna." He said smiling at the sight of her.

"This is a nice surprise." She said, looking up into his face. He glanced around quickly before giving her a small peck on the lips.

From behind his back he produced Miss Florence. "Mr Carson asked me to bring this down to you, and a right fool I felt with it too, I can tell you."

Anna giggled before taking the doll. "Miss Lily-beth will be grateful." She smoothed her apron, "Still, it might be something you have to get used to if we have a little girl?"

He placed his hand gently on her stomach. "If she is as lovely as her mother, I am sure I will do all manner of foolish things for her."

Anna placed her own hand over his, their fingers entwining.

"I do wish however you weren't still working." John Bates said.

Anna sighed. "Let's not start that again." She said indulgently.

"I mean it Anna; you should be at home knitting… what ever it is women knit for babies."

"You know, but the new girl hasn't been here very long, and I want to stay on until she settles."

"You mean until she can manage to stand in front of Lady Mary without dissolving into a gibbering wreck?" He smiled.

Anna glanced back towards the house before directing her husband to walk with her. "It's not so much Lady Mary as Mr Matthew. Whenever he is around the poor girl seems to go completely to pieces."

Bates frowned. "I can't imagine Mr Matthew is harsh with her?"

Anna shook her head. "It would probably be better if he was but I don't think he has a harsh bone in his body. I think it might just be a bit of an infatuation. She's young and impressionable."

John's eyes opened wide with surprise. "What does Mr Matthew say? Or more to the point Lady Mary?"

"I don't think _he_ has even noticed, but my lady? That is a difficult one. Sarah needs to be careful, if her ladyship has even the slightest inkling, that girl will be out of here so fast her feet won't touch the ground."

The walked on around the garden. "Have you ever had an infatuation Anna Bates?" He asked. "When you were young and impressionable?"

She smiled cheekily. "I don't know about the young part, but yes, I did as it happens."

He looked askance. "You did? And what happened with the gentleman concerned?"

Squeezing his hand her bright eyes looked up at her husband. "I married him."

* * *

><p>"Ah Stevens." Her sister and grandmother now departed, Mary thought she would take the opportunity to address the issue with the nanny.<p>

The woman stood in front of her in the drawing room with a face completely devoid of emotion.

"I wanted to talk to you about George. My sister seemed to be under the impression the other day that you were about to beat the child?" It was said without anger or irritation, a completely benign statement of fact. Stevens was not to be fooled.

"I am sorry if Lady Edith took the wrong idea milady."

"She felt that perhaps you were a little rough with him. I know George can be something of a handful..." Again there was the clipped tone, the impassive authority which was somehow designed to make the nanny feel inferior, to lure her into confession.

"If you don't mind me saying so milady, the child is quite wild."

"Exuberant perhaps, but not quite… 'Feral'?"

The use of her own word should have forced a reaction in the Nanny, but she betrayed nothing, simply choosing to stare at a spot a few inches to the left of Mary's ear.

"Might I remind you Stevens?" Mary said. Now her tone left no doubt that what she was about to say would not be contradicted. "It is not in your remit to punish the children physically. If such a situation was to occur that it was required, then it would be my husband and only my husband, who would dispense the necessary chastisement." Mary knew full well that the chances of the children ever doing something so utterly terrible to warrant a beating from Matthew was nigh on impossible. "Do I make myself absolutely clear on that?"

Stevens nodded her head once, still refusing to meet Mary's eye. "Quite clear milady."

"Good… you may go." Mary settled herself on the sofa as a clear indication that the woman had now been dismissed.

As Stevens left the room the fury burned inside her. How dare she? If the little brat had been beaten a few times before now he would certainly be less trouble. The daughter was adorable, but little boys need to feel a sore bottom on a regular basis, and now there was another one. God knows how bad this irish urchin was going to be; apparently he had never even had a nanny before. The anger bubbled deep inside. Lady Mary bloody Crawley, she was going to be sorry for treating her that way.

* * *

><p>Sir Richard Carlisle sighed as he walked towards Haxby Park in the wake of his new wife. She took of her gloves and surveyed the hallway critically.<p>

If Cora had really wanted to know, the house had indeed been completely redecorated, at great expense to Richard, with his wife's rather eclectic tastes. Even to his mind, it appeared vulgar. He couldn't help but imagine what his former fiancée would think of it.

Lady Richard Carlisle was not young, and she had certainly never been pretty. It wasn't something she lamented. She had been blessed with an agile brain and the ability to use it to her advantage. The daughter of one of Richard's direct competitors, she had realised many years ago that the newspaper world was in her blood and its secrets opened up many opportunities, which required neither youth nor beauty.

"Do come along Richard." She trilled.

He followed her into the house.

"Isn't it wonderful?" She cooed, "I have always wanted to have a home out of the city. I believe we shall become quite the country set. What do they have, shooting parties, and hunts… oh Richard, perhaps we could have a shoot to introduce ourselves to the neighbourhood?"

"My dear Cecily , it is July, the season is only from October to January." He said wearily.

She pouted large, over red lips. "Can't we just have one little one? You know just for fun?"

Richard wondered briefly if he had ever seemed this… lacking in knowledge. He knew her to be intelligent so why she persisted in this... charade, he had no idea. "No, it would be utterly frowned upon. We do not want to make ourselves pariahs." Any more than we already will be, he thought privately. It was strange to be back in Yorkshire, in Haxby. He had honestly meant to sell the place. He cursed himself for not doing so. But the market was not as bouyant as it had been and... whatever the excuse, he knew he could not sell it because it reminded him so much of his previous folly and he deserved to be reminded. There was not much that Sir Richard regretted, but the events of February 1920 that was something he seriously wished he had not done. It was something that caused that oh so rare emotions in him... embarrasment and... yes, shame. Still inevitably he would pay the price.

"Well I simply must call on the other prominent families in the area." She said enjoying the reaction as Richard stiffened. "It's not as if we don't have an acquaintance with them is it?"

Her smile widened. "Oh Richard, don't be so dour. I simply want to be able to see the infamous Lady Mary Crawley for myself, after all, I have heard so much about her…"


	6. Not Quite Cricket

**A/N I am rating this chapter E for eep! It's only a little eep, barely an eep at all, it could even be simply an ee. But I put the warning there just in case. You may also experience some slight discomfort, however I would recommend a warm glass of milk and a couple of garibaldis that should do the trick. :)**

**To everyone who has been kind enough to be alerting, favouriting, reviewing and generally sending warm wishes towards this story, I thank you.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>The lawns of Downton lay freshly mown under the afternoon sun. Gazebo's had been erected. Matthew and Robert stood watching the other guest circulate. A tall dark haired man approached from the house.<p>

"How are you James?" Matthew asked as he shook his friend's hand.

"Sick of sun, flies and people asking me if it was really like A Passage to Bloody India!" James Lansdowne said warmly.

"Was it?" Matthew asked, only to receive a rueful shake of his friends head.

"That has just stirred up a whole hornets nest. I couldn't move in London without some outraged citizen asking me if I was one of those dreadful people who were so cruel to the Mr Aziz's of this world."

"But Ghandi has been released, surely?" Robert asked.

James made a face. "That was why I decided to get out. He may be saying that he has retired but that won't last. The country is a powder keg ready to explode after Dyer, and you mark my words, Ghandi will be a part of it."

Mary walked towards the group confidently. Edith however, lagged a little way behind. It was almost as though the older sister was dragging the younger by sheer will power.

"James, how lovely to see you." Mary said offering her cheek to be kissed, which it duly was.

"Well Mary, I have to say, married life obviously suits you."

"And India has obviously suited you." She said sweetly. "Is it very like the book?"

The men laughed.

"Did I say something funny?" Mary asked, slightly put out.

"No, my darling," Matthew said placing his arm about her waist. "We were only just talking about Mr Forster's masterpiece that's all."

Mary turned to indicate Edith who had been hovering behind her father. "I am not the one to ask about books I'm afraid, it isn't really my thing. You will have to discuss it with my sister, I am fairly sure she has read it."

Edith peeped out from her hiding place and smiled nervously at James. His features immediately softened on seeing her.

"And now, Papa, Matthew, we have three very excited children who were promised that the two of you would teach them how to play cricket." Mary said briskly as she ushered the surplus men away, with a cheerful smile at couple.

* * *

><p>Sarah watched as father and grandfather played with the three children. Matthew, she savoured the name, his jacket lying on the grass, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, as he ran to throw the ball towards one of the boys. She had been drafted in to help with the garden party, and of course had readily accepted, especially as she knew <em>he<em> would be there. The daydreams had been getting worse. The more she tried to stop herself, the more her imagination would take her away on a tide of romance. Every kind word he had ever said to her was stored away in her brain, to be replayed later. Even the most mundane of statements she would re-enact in her mind to try and glean some proof that he even really noticed her existence.

Unbeknownst to Sarah, part of her obsession had been observed by a Master Branson and a Master Crawley. They had been hiding in the kitchen under the premise of playing war, when the maid had come into the seemingly empty room. To one side had been left a pile of clothes ready to be packaged up and sent to the laundry. Looking around, Sarah had carefully searched through the pile until she had located a shirt belonging to her master. She has stroked it reverently through her fingers before finally lifting it to her nose. It had smelt of him. A reminder of that briefest of moments when she had been so close to him, and now this was as near as she could get. The heady aroma made her head spin.

"What is she doing?" George had asked his cousin in a whisper.

"I don't know, but it's what pa used to do to his socks if ma hant done the washing." Michael had hissed back, very knowledgably.

George looked at his older cousin with a new admiration.

* * *

><p>"Mrs Hughes I wonder if I could have a word." Anna asked as she walked across the lawn.<p>

"Of course," The housekeeper replied. "You know it's not been the same with you moving to Crawley house." There was a tinge of sadness.

"That's kind." Anna said, "I actually wanted to talk to you about Sarah." She gave a slight nod towards the maid.

Mrs Hughes pursed her lips in disapproval. "You mean the one who watches Mr Matthew as though he was a hen house and she was the fox?"

Anna tried not to smile at the analogy. "So you've noticed then?"

"It's very hard not to. The girl is hardly discreet. But then I suppose men think they can do whatever they like." She sighed.

"Oh no, Mr Matthew has done nothing to encourage her." Anna said quickly.

"But has he done anything to _discourage_ her." The memory of Ethel and little Charlie still haunted Mrs Hughes.

"I really don't think he is aware."

The housekeeper did not wear the expression of someone who believed that for one minute.

"No really Mrs Hughes, he shows her no special preferences."

"So what does Lady Mary say?"

Here Anna hesitated. "I haven't told Lady Mary, but I am sure that she will notice before long. I don't want the girl to lose her job over some stupid crush."

"It will probably be the best thing for her. You know what they say, there is no smoke without fire, and if she carries on the way she's going. Mr Matthew Crawley may be the only one in Downton who 'apparently' hasn't noticed."

The housekeeper folded her hands across her lap and made her way back towards the house.

* * *

><p>Violet glanced across at her daughter in law. "Have you mentioned yet to Mary about the new neighbours?" She asked.<p>

"Lady Carlisle? No not yet."

"My dear" Violet said expansively. "If you are addressing the wife of a Knight you would indeed address them as Lady Carlisle, however, if you are _describing_ said Lady, she would be Lady Richard Carlisle. The wife of the holder is entitled to her own courtesy title, which takes the form of 'The Lady' followed by her husband's name, you only have to look at the mother of our chancellor, Lady Randolph Churchill. Her husband was _addressed_ as "Lord Randolph" and his wife as "Lady Randolph but by their marriage, she was properly known as Lady Randolph Churchill. Really Cora, you should have worked this out by_ now_. Poor Jennie would be quite be spinning in her grave... oh we did have a time." She finished wistfully_._

"I stand corrected." Cora said open mouthed.

"Sit, dear, you sit corrected." Her Mother in law added.

* * *

><p>Thomas and O'Brien were standing hidden by the hydrangeas as Stevens made her way over to them with a fresh packet of cigarettes.<p>

"You took your bloody time." Thomas said.

"Language please!" Mrs Hughes said as she passed.

The valet shot a dirty look at her disappearing back. He took his brand new watch out of his pocket and looked at it for a long time.

"That's very smart." Stevens said, glancing over. "Is it new?"

"It is." He said, obviously pleased that it had been noticed. "Indian gold."

"Where did the likes of you get Indian gold?" O'Brien asked.

"I had a little windfall, didn't I?" It was impossible for him to be any smugger.

"Very nice." Stevens said distractedly, her eyes searching for Smith.

"You seem to have quite the knack for little windfalls." O'Brien questioned quietly. "Weren't you valeting for Mr Lansdowne? That particular windfall wouldn't be something to have accidentally fallen into your pocket from that gentleman's room?"

"I don't know what you mean?" The smirk on his face suggested otherwise.

"Thomas!" O'Brien snapped, causing Stevens to take more notice in what they were saying.

"Mr Lansdowne gave it to me alright?" Thomas said with increased smarm.

"Why would a gentleman like Mr Lansdowne give you a gold watch?" O'Brien said in complete disbelief.

"Because unlike some people." He nodded towards the cricketers, "he appreciated my services."

O'Brien sniffed in disbelief, whereas Stevens seemed to accept Thomas at face value.

"It is nice to feel you are valued." She agreed. "Of course in our house it is very much dependant on who you are, and what you are prepared to do for it."

The other two servants followed her gaze which was focussed purely on Smith.

The cricketers were on their way back towards the gazebo. The children chattering loudly as Matthew placed an affectionate hand on his nephew's head to ruffle his hair. They soon became level with the maid.

It was apparent that the party were going to walk past without acknowledgement. She wasn't sure where it came from; it was almost as though her lips had a life of their own, but before she could stop herself.

"You played very well sir." She blurted out.

He stopped for just a second in total surprise. Those piercing blue eyes looking at her questioningly. She felt she could dive into those eyes and be lost forever.

"I don't know which game you were watching Smith, but we were thoroughly trounced by a trio of children." It was not said unkindly, but Sarah felt it a personal rebuke.

"A couple of future county champions if I'm any judge." Robert said amiably, slapping Matthew on the back. "And I think we all deserve some of Mrs Patmores' chocolate cake." The children cheered and then they were gone and Sarah was left wondering what ever had possessed her.

O'Brien and Thomas exchanged a knowing glance.

* * *

><p>James and Edith stood awkwardly in the sunshine.<p>

"I am pleased to see…"

"When I got your letter…"

They both spoke together before smiling shyly.

"Please, after you." James said chivalrously.

"All I was going to say was that I was very pleased to receive your letter, and that you wanted to come to see us."

"Well I thought I ought to come and check that Crawley was taking care of your sister." He said briskly.

Edith lowered her eyes.

"Of course, there were other attractions." He added.

"I would have thought that you would have at least come back with an Indian Princess on your arm?" Edith said boldly looking him in the eye. She had no idea where the comment came from, it was devilishly forward. He inner self chastised that she had clearly been spending far too much time with Mary.

He smiled slowly, those delicious chocolate eyes watching her face carefully.

"And I that you would have an army of suitors begging to pledge their troth?"

"I… um…" That would teach her to be forwards, she thought as she again looked away.

"I'm sorry Edith, I didn't mean to embarrass you." It was so kindly said and with such warmth and affection, that her defensiveness was tempered.

He held out his arm. "Shall we try this again? Will you walk with me Lady Edith?"

* * *

><p>From her place in the shade, the exchange between Sarah and Matthew had also been observed… by Lady Mary Crawley. There had been something about the maid that she hadn't quite been able to put her finger on. The girl had developed an edge to her that had never been there in her interviews, but now it was almost bordering on resentment. Mary had put it down to the incident that first day and that Smith would inevitably get over it. But now she saw.<p>

Wasn't Mary the expert in unrequited love? Had she not so very long ago been the one stealing fleeting glances at Matthew when she thought no-one would notice? That day at the concert, Lavinia had caught her, she remembered the embarrassment well. Every opportunity to get his attention, hold his gaze, make him laugh. It was not so long ago that the agony of it was not etched on her heart.

There was one part of her that wanted to slap the stupid girl. To tell her that there was no way_ her_ Matthew would look twice at a maid. He was hers; body and soul, and no-one should ever dare even think about him.

The other part of her just felt terribly, terribly sad.


	7. Careless Talk

**A/N Righty ho. Now my muse is really turning up the heat here. There may be moments of Awww, there may be moments of Really! and there may be a Snigger and there may be an EEEEP! So I suppose this would be rated A.R.S and... hang on, perhaps we should dispense with this kind of rating. Just brace yourself OK?**

**Again to all you loyal souls who are soldiering on with the story, and to the ever fragrant Serena89 for well just being her, TheOneAndOnlyAlouse and Ieyre for some incredibly enjoyable debates and each and every one of you. THANK YOU!**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>"Are you awake?" It was early morning. Mary raised herself on her elbow to gaze at her husband. She rested her head on her hand.<p>

He lay on his back with an arm over his eyes. "If I said no, would it make the slightest bit of difference?"

She smiled, but said nothing, preferring to simply observe him.

"I can hear you looking at me." Matthew teased. When she still said nothing, he gave a sly grin. "I just want another five minutes, you start without me, and I'll catch up."

She moved to slap him playfully, but he caught her arm and pulled her onto him for a kiss.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." She said when he finally released her.

"Oh." His face fell in exaggerated disappointment.

"You really are incorrigible." She scolded, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him.

"And you're not?"

That at least was something Mary could not deny.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" He asked as he returned his head to the pillow and closed his eyes, his hand idly tracing patterns on her back.

"Smith."

Matthew frowned slightly. "What about Smith?"

"I'm not sure she is going to work out here. There is something about the girl…" She watched Matthew's slumbering face carefully.

"I know she is a bit clumsy, but surely it isn't that bad?"

"I just think she would be better suited elsewhere." Mary hadn't meant to sound harsh, but if only he would only look at her.

Her tone did get the desired result, as he opened his eyes; they were now filled with some concern.

"If you think that's best, then that is what you should do." Matthew replied carefully. He had an underlying feeling that there was something else to this conversation; he just couldn't work out what it was.

He gazed into her brown eyes, trying to read something there, anything. "What is it she has really done Mary?"

Well she couldn't admit it could she? 'I don't like the way she looks at you. I don't want her thinking about you, the way that I did. I don't want her to have her heart broken, the way that I did.' How could she say that to him, how could she show such insecurity for their perfect life, such… weakness?

"She hasn't done anything, but as you say, she is really the most terrible butterfingers." Mary said brightly.

He was looking at her seriously now, searching her face. "You do realise the girl might struggle to get another job? Unemployment is on the rise and there is a shortage of families who just do not have the money to expand their households. Didn't you say she had a mother she sends money to and her father died in the war?"

"I could see if another house could take her on, perhaps Aunt Rosamund?"

"Your aunt is not going to be very pleased if you try off loading your cast off servants onto her." Matthew said. "Perhaps Mrs Hughes might be persuaded?" He tried a smile, but it was not returned. That was far too close to home to Mary's mind.

"Perhaps I will just speak to the girl then." She said sharply.

Believing the debate now over, he looked at her hopefully, as his hand crept downwards.

"Not now Matthew." She snapped as she slid away from him and got out of bed.

Her reaction came as a surprise. He got up too and put on his dressing gown. All the while his wife kept her back to him. Matthew left the room to get dressed, in some considerable confusion as to what had just actually happened.

* * *

><p>Michael Branson was seated at the small table in the nursery drawing quietly. He looked up as the door opened. Seeing it was only Lily-beth he said nothing and bowed his head back over his work.<p>

A little frown puckered her brow.

"Papa always stands up when a lady comes into the room." She said.

The little boy ignored her. This did no suit Lily-beth at all. "I said…"

"I heard." Michael interrupted, still apparently engrossed in his drawing.

This appeared to be all the girl was going to get from her cousin. She walked over to look over his shoulder, only to have him shield his picture protectively with his arm.

"George is in trouble… again." She said it almost with some resignation. "Nanny is making him stand with his hands on his head until he says he is sorry."

"What did he do?" Michael asked looking up. Finally she had his attention. Lily-beth sat down primly next to him.

"He took the bottle of medicine she keeps in her drawer and buried it in the garden." There was a glee to her telling of the story. "It's under the rose bush."

"You told her." Michael said, his eyes narrowing.

"No I didn't!" Lily-beth was as affronted as it is possible for a four year old child to be.

"Bet you did." Michael accused. He already felt a need to protect his friend.

"Why don't you like me?" It was a new concept to Elizabeth Crawley that there was someone in the world immune to her charm.

Her cousin stared. It was the most obtuse question. The moment he had met the little girl he had decided it was she who didn't like him. Therefore his playmate of choice had naturally been George. Not only was his male cousin so like him in colouring and family resemblance, he was also friendly and treated him as an equal, even respecting him as the older of the two. Lily-beth on the other hand, for one thing she was a girl so Michael didn't understand those at all. She never wanted to climb trees or look for frogs in the pond. The biggest thing however, was she always treated him as if she was a hundred times better. Even at his tender age, Michael knew that was wrong. He had heard his Pa, and Pa always said everyone was the same. It didn't matter if they lived in a big house like this one, or a small one like his family, no-one should think they are so very important.

How does a five year old boy convey the complexities of such a thought?

"You're too bossy, and your hair is a stupid colour" He said.

"My hair is not stupid!" She frowned again, picking up one of her ringlets and trying to look at it. "What are you drawing anyway?"

Michael sat for a moment as if deciding if this were a trick question. "It's a picture for my ma and pa." he said eventually.

She leant over to look at it as he reluctantly moved his arm.

"That's the house and that is me and George in the tree with Nanny looking for us, she is very angry."

"Where am I?" Lily-beth asked with some distress that she had not been included.

Michael chewed his lip. "You're in the house playing with Miss Florence. I was just going to draw you." He lied quickly.

She blinked her blue eyes and smiled a little bit. Michael thought this was probably the first time she had ever smiled at him. "Can I be in the tree too?" She asked, almost shyly.

* * *

><p>Sarah O'Brien was adding the finishing touches to her mistress's hair.<p>

"Matthew and a _maid_?" Cora said, her eyes open wide with shock. "I don't believe it!"

"I didn't want to believe it either my lady, but the girl does seem quite open about it."

"I can't see Mary putting up with _that_." Cora said.

"Stranger things have happened. They have been married some time." O'Brien said, her insinuation quite clear.

"Even so… Are you quite sure?"

"I can only tell you what I saw my lady. It just seemed right that I should let you know, especially if it is becoming the subject of idle gossip."

"Quite. My poor Mary." Cora looked into the mirror thoughtfully.

"What will you do?" O'Brien asked.

"Well something will have to be done, leave it with me O'Brien, and thank you for telling me. These things need to be nipped in the bud."

* * *

><p>The two children crept into Mr Moseley's pantry. Opening the cupboard quietly, Lily-beth reached inside while Michael kept watch for any sign of the butler.<p>

"Got it." She said triumphantly as they ran back up stairs to the nursery.

It was with some relief that Nanny Stevens had finally managed to make George confess. She had to admit, he had held out a lot longer than she thought. The little brat was stubborn, but she would eventually break that out of him. This was a little victory and with the mud covered bottle of cod liver oil in one hand and a disgruntled George in the other she made her way triumphantly back to the nursery.

The sight before her eyes made her drop the bottle in shock. There in the nursery was Miss Lily-beth and Michael. But it was the little girl that had caused the horror. All of her hair, some of her dress, her arms, face, the carpet and both children's hands were completely covered in dark brown shoe polish.

* * *

><p>Lady Mary's mood had not improved over the course of the morning. She had asked Anna to help her dress citing other things that Smith need be doing. She was not one to enter into anything until her emotions were perfectly under control, and even Anna had felt the lash of her tongue. The experienced maid had borne it stoically.<p>

Matthew had left for the office. He had not come into her room to kiss her goodbye. She knew that she was sometimes less than sweet tempered and in those moments he preferred to stay out of the way until she was prepared to be more reasonable. This time however it irked her terribly.

She paced the drawing room like a caged tiger, clenching and unclenching her hands. Why hadn't he fought with her, made her tell him the real reasons? Why did he have to be so kind, so understanding about the maid's circumstances? Why did he have to be so damned… good! At least if they had argued, as they sometimes did, she would not be left feeling this utter frustration. She would have been impassioned, he would have been equally so, but kept his temper as always. He would have simply given his opinion calmly but firmly, until inevitably their passions would have found a more enjoyable way to be satisfied.

"Milady?" Moseley stood anxiously by the door.

"Yes, what is it?" Lady Mary asked. She did believe there was a headache beginning behind her eyes.

"There is a lady to see you." Moseley said cautiously.

She looked at him with irritation, waiting.

The butler coughed. "She says she is The Lady Carlisle."


	8. Confrontations

**A/N I am afaid my muse has had to go for a little lie down, the excitement is all getting a bit much. Now as to rating. To my mind you are going to need a cushion at the very least, or a pillow, or possibly one of those giant floor cushions. My muse has reached into it's little bag of cliff hangers and pulled one out especially for all you lovely people - you know you love em.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and commented, favourited and generally allowed me to indulge my obsession. I am so grateful for the time and effort you all put in, it makes me a very happy chicken.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>Tom Branson walked into the dingy lodgings he and his wife had taken in Belfast. It was only temporary, that's what he told himself. Money was tight. He had a salary from the newspaper, but they tended to rely on Sybil's earnings from the hospital and her father's meagre allowance. With Michael away in England and Sybil struggling to find work due to her nationality, they felt they could manage to tighten their belts a little.<p>

Today had not been the best day.

"How did it go?" Sybil asked rising from her seat. It was a mute question, she could see from the disappointment on his face.

"They won't talk to me." He said.

"Why ever not? Have you not shown how loyal you are to the cause?" She was outraged on his behalf. He loved that about her. How many times had she stood up for him, to her family, to the black and tans, to anyone who dare treat him with the slightest disrespect? Then she became ever inch _Lady_ Sybil, and he knew she would fight for him to the death if necessary.

So how then could he tell her? How could he explain that the Republicans would not accept him into their ranks, would not allow him to champion their cause in the papers, because he was married to an English woman? Not only that, but an aristocrat. To them he was a traitor already, a spy, his loyalties were not with anti-treaty Ireland, but with a hated enemy he had brought to their land. They had even gone so far as the threaten her. It had been different in Dublin; there they had been surrounded by a close knit group of friends and family and allies. There Sybil was known and respected, it did not matter that her accent was different, she was an asset. Here they were an unknown quantity, and they were not trusted.

"I suppose they feel that because the south abandoned them, then I am part of that." He lied.

"That is utterly ridiculous." She snapped. "You must go back and persuade them, you must never give up."

He sighed sadly and took her hand. "Sometimes you have to know when to walk away. I think we should return south, the hospital will be glad to have you back and perhaps little Michael can come home."

She watched him carefully. "What is it you are not telling me Tom?"

"Nothing." He said quickly, trying to pass her into the tiny sitting room.

"Tom Branson, I know you, and I know when you are lying, mainly because you are really not very good at it, what are you not telling me?"

"I told you, it's nothing. We'll start packing and leave in a day or two. Will you write to your sister?"

It was obvious that he was hiding something, but to push him would be useless. She would bide her time and eventually he would tell her, but in the meantime, she wasn't planning on going anywhere.

* * *

><p>"There is a woman arrived who says she is Lady Carlisle." Moseley said conspiratorially as he walked into the kitchen. Mrs Bird was baking, the two maids sat at the kitchen table as Anna taught Sarah the mystery of the invisible stitch.<p>

"As in Sir Richard Carlisle?" Anna asked.

Moseley shrugged. "I suppose so; there can't be that many Carlisles around."

"I wonder if anyone told Lady Mary they had moved back into the area?" Anna mused.

Mrs Bird rolled a piece of pastry viciously. "Well whoever she is, she certainly picked her day to come calling. Lady Mary has been spitting fire today."

"And Mr Matthew was very quiet this morning," Moseley added, "Oh by the way Mrs Bird, he asked me to tell you that he is attending a client in York this afternoon, so may not make it back for dinner."

"Staying out of the way." Mrs Bird said dryly.

"I'm sure whatever has happened they will sort it out soon enough." Anna said.

"I don't know why he puts up with her." Three pairs of eyes turned towards Sarah in complete astonishment. She looked up from her mending.

"Well I don't!" She exclaimed sulkily. "She is absolutely wicked to Mr Matthew, and that's not the only thing, she's untrue too…"

Anna grabbed Sarah by the elbow. "Do you think I might have a word?"

There was no doubting that it wasn't a question as a statement of fact. She ushered the girl out of the door into the garden.

"What do you think you are doing?" Anna hissed. "You cannot say things like that about her ladyship!"

"Why not, it's true; you must know about it, you're her maid." Sarah's tone was bitter and childish. Matthew's rebuke had lain heavy on her. She was embarrassed, frustrated and very angry. Lady Mary did not deserve her husband as far as she was concerned. Sarah knew she would never treat him that way.

"It is _not_ true. Wherever did you get such an idiotic notion? Lady Mary and Mr Matthew are devoted to each other!"

"I heard her, with my own ears. Talking to her sister she was, about somebody called Pamuk!" Sarah folded her arms as if this knowledge explained everything.

Anna closed her eyes for just a moment. She had to try and keep calm, but for someone so long deceased, Mr Pamuk would rather refuse to lie still.

"That is the trouble when you listen at keyholes; you hear nothing of any good. Lady Mary has never and will never be untrue to Mr Matthew, and more importantly, he will never be untrue to her."

Anna waited to see if this piece of advice would have the desired effect, but all it achieved was Sarah's bottom lip extended.

"You would say that, but I know what I heard." She pouted.

"You know what you thought you heard, but believe me, I know the whole story and you couldn't be more wrong. Also, before you start getting any clever ideas, Mr Matthew knows all about it too. I didn't want to have to say this Sarah, but, the whole staff knows you've been making cow eyes at Matthew Crawley. It is ridiculous. He is a married man. He is very kind, and you may have taken that kindness to mean something more, but it doesn't. He is not the sort of man who would get involved with a maid, not matter how much she sighed and simpered at him." Anna had not meant to lose her temper, but the girl was quite impossible.

Tears began to form in Sarah's eyes.

Anna's heart softened. "I know it's hard. He is a very nice man and a good employer. I'm only really saying this for your own good, because if Lady Mary notices, then you will be dismissed and without references."

"I… I…" The girl stammered. The consequences of her actions now seemed very real.

"You're very young Sarah," She put her arm around the girl kindly, "You are also very lucky that Mr Matthew is not the kind of man who would take advantage, you can't say that about all of them."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh no! Do you think he knows?"

Anna gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I wouldn't have thought so. He is not really arrogant enough to imagine he's turned a young girls head."

"But you said everyone knew?"

"Trust me, you are not the first woman to sigh over that gentleman, and he didn't notice then either! One day I will tell you all about it, but for now, do you think you could try to forget Mr Crawley?"

Tears still filling her eyes, Sarah managed to nod.

* * *

><p>"Lady Carlisle?"<p>

"Lady Mary."

The two women studied each other critically as Lady Mary pulled the bell cord.

"I know strictly speaking we have not been formally introduced, but given your past association with my husband, I thought that for once I would hang convention and make my own introductions." Cecily Carlisle smiled as she looked around the room and took of her gloves.

"Indeed." Mary said. The word had icicles. "Moseley, could you arrange for some tea for me and my… guest."

The butler, having only just arrived gratefully scuttled away again.

Mary took a seat and indicated that the other woman should do the same.

"So how do you like Yorkshire?" Mary said, in her best hostess voice. So this was the woman Richard had married. Of course Granny and Aunt Rosamund had been beside themselves to find out who she was, but no-one seemed to know her in their society. She obviously had a liking for the new fashions in powder and paint, her mouth was a perfect cherry red cupid's bow, her face was framed by a shingle bobbed haircut. Clearly Richard had not been consulted in that area.

It was something that would not go down well with Matthew, he had been opinionated enough when she'd suggested having a boy's haircut herself, she could imagine what he'd say if she also started painting her face so obviously.

"Oh it's divine after the heat of town. Do you get into the city very often?"

They were being crushingly polite. Cecily was also making her own observations on her husband's former fiancée. She was not as chic and modern as Cecily had imagined, she still favoured the long hair and fresh faced look. However, she had caught her by surprise and, even so, reluctantly had to concede that Lady Mary was a natural beauty. Cecily herself had made sure to dress with extra care today, her makeup carefully applied, her hair dressed just so.

"Not often no. There was a time that I loved to hear the click of my heels on the pavement, but now, with the children…"

"Ah yes, you have just the two, twins I believe?"

"You _have_ done your research."

The two stared at each other for a few moments, each being unwilling to break the stalemate.

"It is my business to know people." Lady Carlisle said with a slight edge to her tone. "Daddy was in newspapers."

She let the information sink in, watching her hostess carefully.

The dull ache in her head was making Mary even more irritable, if that was possible, and the believed she could see where this conversation was going.

"I don't wish to appear rude Lady Carlisle, but what is it you want?" She said sharply.

Cecily smiled. She was beginning to see now how this woman had bested Richard.

"Simply for us to be acquainted." She replied innocently.

"I fail to see how that would be of any advantage to you… and your newspapers. I am simply the wife of a country solicitor, nothing of any great interest to you there."

"And the daughter of an earl, and if I may say so, you do have a very interesting past."

Moseley appeared with a tray, allowing Lady Mary time to consider her guest.

Once they were again alone, Mary made a great play of pouring the tea; it was all she could do to resist pouring the whole pot over the ridiculous creature's coiffured head.

"Lady Carlisle…" Mary began, looking her in the eye.

"Cecily… please." The red lips had turned into a smile.

"Lady Carlisle," Mary said again, even more peaked that the woman had interrupted her. The tone could not be misunderstood. "I hope you do not mean to come into my home and threaten me or my family. I believe you may find that any ammunition you think you have has, in fact, become rather old and extremely tedious."

There was something in Lady Carlisle's eyes that Mary certainly had not expected to see. It was almost as if her masked threat had been expected to fail.

"No indeed Lady Mary." Cecily looked away for just a moment, before apparently steeling herself. "What I actually wanted… was your help."


	9. Communication

**A/N Thank you once again to everyone who has been so supportive in this latest adventure. I cannot tell you how inspiring it has been. Oh and a special mention in dispatches to Pemonynen for her services to the advancement of the English language*. ;)**

**This chapter. Hmm... it starts off at room temperature, goes a bit chilly for a while, and ends up somewhat steamy. So you will need... a sensibly sweater for the first part, a winter coat and hat for the middle part and possibly some oven gloves for the last part.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>It was late when Matthew Crawley finally returned to Crawley House. The day had started badly and rapidly deteriorated. Not only had he to deal with a client who insisted he travel to York, he was kept waiting and waiting, and then the train home had been delayed. The only high point had been meeting James Lansdowne at the station.<p>

"Lansdowne! I didn't expect to see you here." He said, shaking his friend by the hand. "You travelling back to Ripon?"

The other man had seemed almost slightly embarrassed to have been spotted. "Yes, I had some business in town."

They sat together in the first class carriage as the engine finally began its journey.

The train was stuffy, the steam seeping through the windows.

"So how long are you staying?" Matthew began.

"I… um… I'm not really sure." It was unusual for James Lansdowne to be so reticent.

Not wishing to pry unnecessarily, the Downton heir had not pushed the issue. So they had discussed the weather and Matthew's business and India and the children, until it seemed there was nothing else to be gleaned from small talk. For the second time that day Matthew had the feeling that there was a second conversation waiting to be had.

"So what are you plans now that you have quit the east, will you return to the estate?" He asked.

"No, I will wait for a new posting from the Foreign Office." James looked almost as though there was an inner debate going on in his head. Finally he seemed to make a decision. Reaching into his pocket he produced a small black velvet box. He passed it to Matthew almost nonchalantly.

With a small smile Crawley opened the lid. Inside was an exquisite diamond ring.

"What do you think?" James asked nervously.

Matthew could not resist. "I am incredibly flattered, and obviously it is all so sudden, but I'm afraid I am already spoken for."

James snatched the box back in mock indignation.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Matthew said with a smile.

It was as though the man had been prepped to burst. "I know it's presumptuous, and I do not dare hope really but…"

"Has the lady given any indication that she may accept this time?"

James flopped back in his seat and threw his hands in the air. "Who can tell with the female of the species?"

Matthew thought ruefully of his own conversation that very morning. "Indeed." He agreed heartily. "So why…?"

"I've tried Crawley. That's all I can say. I have tried to move on, convinced myself that she never wanted me, if she had, she would have taken me when I asked her. I have flirted with other women, even contemplated marriage to one, but _she_ will not leave me. You have no idea of the agonies I have gone through."

Matthew did, the memory of his own struggles still very fresh in his mind, the times he had tried to convince himself that Mary was out of his mind, out of his heart, and yet he had clung to that damned stuffed dog as if for dear life.

"But now," Lansdowne continued, "I am hoping she is ready."

"You do realise what you are letting yourself in for." It was almost teasing in his tone, almost.

James raised his eyebrows in question.

"When they make Crawley women, they break the mould. I have one who is barely four who could probably take down an empire and still have time for a bedtime story, not to mention cousin Violet, who is a force of nature. They never tell you what they are really thinking, they scheme more than Mr Doyle's Moriarty, and you will always be left with the distinct impression you haven't the faintest idea what is really going on."

His friend laughed. "You are too harsh on them Crawley. Edith is sweet, she is kind, and there is not an ounce of malice or intrigue in her."

Matthew wondered if he had been this blinded when he proposed to Mary. No, he had been in full receipt of the facts… because she had told him, despite hiding her secret for so many years. It was as if a lightening bolt had hit. He needed to just ask her. Whatever her issue had been this morning, the time had come to demand she tell him. No that was wrong; request that she tell him if he wanted to survive the encounter.

"Crawley?" James asked.

Matthew shook himself from his thoughts. "She is indeed a very sweet girl, and I know the rest of the family are hoping she will take you on. I can only wish you the best of luck." He said simply, inside heartily hoping the same would apply in his own home.

And so having returned, he decided to take refuge, and a little Dutch courage, in his study before entering the fray.

* * *

><p>For her part, Mary had heard him come in. In fact, despite being ready for bed, she had been listening for it. Almost as soon as he had left the bedroom, she had been regretting their morning parting. Then when Moseley told her Matthew would be out for the evening, she had felt the first pangs of guilt at her behaviour. They had gradually been increasing over the course of the day.<p>

He heard the door click as Mary slipped into the study. He had been standing by the window with his drink looking out over the moonlit garden.

"You're very late?" She said softly.

Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. Today has been something of a trial."

"I wanted to talk to you." She said.

Matthew's held her gaze just long enough. "Is this going to be a conversation where I know what's going on or another one where I am left in the dark?"

He turned back to the window, turning away from her.

She could understand why he would be angry; in truth she was somewhat angry with herself. The conversation with Cecily Carlisle had only highlighted how lucky she had been in her choice of husband, and it had done nothing to help her conscience.

She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his back. They stood there for a long time. It was as close to an apology as Matthew was going to get.

"So how was your day?" He asked, now slightly mollified, as his hand lifted to stroke her fingers.

"Well you have certainly missed all the excitement." She said brightly. "We now have a child dyed brown, possibly permanently, and The Lady Carlisle paid me a visit."

"What?" Matthew said turning around to look at her.

"Quite brown I'm afraid, almost coffee coloured. Poor Stevens was apoplectic. Apparently Lily-beth decided she wanted the same hair colour as her cousin, so decided to change it with boot polish."

"No… you said Carlisle."

"Are you not more interested in the hue of our children?" Now that he was in a more pliable mood Mary was being deliberately teasing.

"Don't be flip Mary." He said tersely. "You said Lady Carlisle? _He_ didn't come here did he?"

"No. It was just her and you are not going to believe what she asked me."

"I don't care what she asked. I don't want those people anywhere near you or the children." He was instantly protective and a return of Carlisle could only mean danger.

"Don't worry my Darling, I sent her on her way with a very similar message." She stood on tip toe and brushed her lips against his.

"Speaking of messages. Do you think we could revisit this morning?" Matthew asked carefully. "I don't think I was fully receiving yours."

"Ah." Mary thought. It was time to bite the bullet.

"Smith." She said

"Smith. What's really the matter with her? I know she can be a bit clumsy and nervous, but…"

"You see that's the thing. She is only like that around you." She watched his face carefully to see if he understood.

"You think she's intimidated by… me?"

Mary sighed. Sometimes for a clever man he could be incredibly dense when it came to women. For goodness sake, hadn't she spent the best part of the war mooning around after him and it took Granny to actually point it out!

"No darling." She said kindly. "I think she has developed rather a monumental infatuation. You tend to send her quite giddy."

Matthew frowned. "Really?" he said "Are you quite sure?"

Mary couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm not sure it's funny." He said, thoroughly confused by her reaction.

But to Mary it was. He really had no idea.

"You have somewhat changed your opinion, this morning you were all for throwing her out into the street." It irritated Matthew when she was occasionally so contrary.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I am laughing at your obliviousness.*"

"Is that even a word?"

"Does it matter. I did overreact a little. Not because I thought you would act on it..."

"I should think not!"

"But because she is being so obvious. People will start to talk." She said. "And you know I do care what they say."

"I have certainly done nothing to encourage her." He was still a little defensive.

"Of course not. But that is probably why she is becoming indiscreet, _desperate_ for your attention. I will talk to her in the morning, lay down the law, but you were right, we took her on, so we have a responsibility."

"So what should I do?"

Mary smiled and began to play with the buttons on his shirt. She looked up coyly. "You could start by cementing my belief that you are a loving and attentive husband?" She said playfully.

"You are ready to go up?" He asked with a smile.

She shook her head and glanced over towards his desk, before returning her gaze to his face, her meaning abundantly clear.

Matthew's eyebrows shot up in surprise. They had realised early on that given their respective appetites, and the fact that Mary had fallen for the twins so soon, that some measures needed to be taken in order to control the extent of their family. It was still somewhat frowned upon, and Matthew had indeed taken some persuading, however, it did mean that their actual lovemaking was generally reserved for the bedroom. This made her suggestion now all the more enticing.

"What about…?" He began hoarsely, only to have her slip her fingers tantalisingly behind his waistband as she pulled him towards the desk.

All other concerns were lost as his mouth claimed hers, his hands urgently grasping at her nightgown as she undid his belt.

* * *

><p>Mary wasn't the only female in Crawley house to have been waiting for Matthew's return. Anna once again had been called upon to attend to her ladyship, so Sarah had found herself sent to bed. Instead of undressing however, she had sat patiently until his return. Anna's words still smarted. But, she reasoned, there would be no harm in seeing him. She was aware that her mum relied on the meagre salary she was paid and that her position could be in jeopardy, but she could not help the feelings that had her in their iron grip. There would be no harm in just a look.<p>

She had watched him disappear into his study and was just contemplating asking if he needed anything, when Lady Mary had appeared down the stairs. Sarah had immediately ducked into the dark of the kitchen to avoid being seen.

As soon as the door closed behind her mistress, she had crept forwards, listening carefully.

So Lady Mary knew about her love, and Sarah had no doubt that was what it was. The young girl half suspected Anna may have told her, and now he knew too. The blood rushed to her face in sheer embarrassment. But it seemed her job was safe, for the moment at least, and if he knew... The small noises coming from behind the door were not something Sarah had experienced, but she had a very vivid imagination. Despite her rising jealousy aimed squarely at her mistress, she could not manage to tear herself away.


	10. Chinese Whispers

**A/N Oh dear. I am afraid my muse has gone somewhat off of the deep end. I am becoming rightly very worried and may suggest an increase in it's medication (or mine). Unfortunately, it means that this chapter is somewhat discombobulating... Sorry. You're not going to like it, but I warn you, I am hiding until the furore dies down.**

**Thank you again to everyone who is reading, favouriting and reviewing and generally joining in with the whole jolly shebang. You are all simply marvellous. **

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>Cecily Carlisle tapped her French polished fingernail on the table in front of her. She stared out of the window thoughtfully. The threat had been a mistake. She was used to using information against people, that was her stock in trade, Richard's too, but with Lady Mary it had seemed almost to bore her. The woman was no fool, that was abundantly clear. So Cecily had tried, woman to woman, to appeal to her better nature. Apparently Lady Mary didn't have one. It was frustrating. The one woman she should hate, the one who she should shun and stay as far away from as possible… she was the only person Cecily believed could help her. And yet she had flatly refused.<p>

"Where did you go yesterday?" Richard quite made her jump.

Of course he would know that she had gone out. The servants would keep him apprised of her movements, just as they reported his to her. She suspected some of them did very well out the arrangement. Of course, he already knew her destination. Simpson, their driver, was quite the mine of information for both of them.

"I went to call on the neighbours, I did tell you I was going to." She said sweetly.

Richard stood near the table, he did not look at her, instead his eyes stayed firmly on the window, his jaw taut.

Cecily already knew where Richard had been the previous evening. He had claimed to have some business in London and would return today. His wife was painfully aware of what that kind of business entailed. Prior to their wedding it had not seemed so personal, in fact she had actually believed once they became man and wife his dalliances elsewhere would stop, or he would at least try to hide them from her. However, in this she had been completely mistaken.

"How was she?" The tone was cold, and if Cecily hadn't known better, she might have even believed it to be disinterested, but she did know so much better.

"I thought she looked every inch the blissful doting wife and mother." She replied. Of course it was an almost cruel thing to say, but it helped to at least vent some of her irritation.

Theirs had been a business arrangement. Richard had been completely clear on that, nothing more than an alliance between rival publishers to increase his market share. They had known each other for years and Cecily had watched his relationship with Lady Mary from a distance. The young woman had always appeared cold and almost unfeeling towards her fiancé, a demeanour Lady Carlisle could understand to some extent. They were not the kind of people to demonstrate their affection.

It was only years later, when Richard had approached her with the proposition, that she did her own investigations and uncovered the Pamuk scandal and more interestingly a considerable surprise in Richard's own past in Yorkshire. In fact it was in this very house where her now husband had completely lost his senses over Lady Mary Crawley, resulting in quite shameful conduct on his part.

The information had given his new wife a considerable amount of power, which knowledge of course she had saved until after they were married. Now she had her own bargaining chip and it gave her a lot of weight. It had brought about his semi retirement. Unfortunately it was not strong enough to persuade him to share her bed, or give up his overnight trips.

So she had asked the one person she knew could affect Richard. It had been a simple request she felt. It was not as though she was asking for oh so very much. She had brought him back to Yorkshire and to the place where she believed the problem could be solved. Now she just needed to persuade Lady Mary somehow to play her part.

* * *

><p>The weight of his exile lay very heavily on Michael Branson's small shoulders. He missed his parents, and now the only thing that had made his life bearable was being sternly regulated. Despite his cousin's protestations, the incident with Lily-beth had been laid very firmly at his door. He was a bad influence, pure and simple. Nanny Stevens had told him so almost constantly. To be fair to his cousin, she had taken the responsibility herself but refusing to believe it, and for once Nanny Stevens had been completely unable to blame George, so Michael was the one. His time with the twins now only allowed under her steely gaze. Lily-beth had been resilient, despite being scrubbed until her skin was red and sore. She had only finally shed a small tear when her hair had to be cut. And now she now watched him balefully from the other side of the nursery.<p>

George had been beside himself with the unfairness of it all. Clenching and unclenching his small fists in outrage. As he saw it, his sister had deliberately engineered something to get Michael in the maximum amount of trouble and he had vowed never to forgive her. The atmosphere in the nursery was thick with emotion.

* * *

><p>So too was the drawing room at the Dower House where the Countess of Grantham was in conference with her mother in law.<p>

"Goodness Cora, you are not so much beating about the bush as waiting for it to die of natural causes. What is it you are trying to say?"

The younger woman sighed; this was not going to be easy. "Matthew is… how can I put this…"

"Quickly, none of us are getting any younger." Violet said sharply.

"He is having _relations_ with the maid." There, she had said it.

The Dowager's eyes opened wide with surprise. "You mean that baby is Matthews!" It almost made a chimney sweep from Solihull acceptable.

"No." Cora said. "The other one."

Violet's expression suggested the new maid had not reached her notice. "I cannot imagine Mary would tolerate such a thing. What proof do we have?"

"Apparently the girl flaunts it openly, and Mary doesn't appear to be concerned, but I am so surprised at Matthew!"

"Well." The old woman pursed her lips. "A wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf." She said knowledgeably. "Although I would have expected Matthew to be a little more middle class."

"Upper middle class." Cora said pointedly, the two shared a wry smile at Isobel's phrase.

"What of his mother? Could she be persuaded to intercede?" The Dowager asked.

"If we could find her. She is still single handedly trying to sort out the mess left by the war. Last I heard she was travelling the country campaigning for Milk for the Children."

"One does so have to admire her zeal, if not necessarily the choice of her focus."

Cora nodded in agreement.

"So it is down to us once again to act for Mary's best interests." The Dowager said wearily. "I do believe that girl will be the end of me."

* * *

><p>Mary woke and stretched lazily, a contented smile on her face. The events of the previous evening still etched onto her skin. Afterwards they had lain together on the carpet in the study, both quietly enjoying the closeness, her head on his chest as Matthew stroked her hair.<p>

Eventually she had shivered with the evening chill. He had helped her to her feet and collected their scattered clothing to dress. Hand in hand they made their way into the hallway where a yawn overtook her. Matthew only smiled and scooped her gently into his arms. He had planted a kiss in her hair before carrying her to their bed. Now she was alone. She turned over and hugged his pillow to her, her head filled with memories of their reckless abandon. Nuzzling her face into its folds, she giggled like a schoolgirl.

* * *

><p>It was a very different Mary Crawley who now sat regarding Sarah Smith. Despite expecting the summons, the young maid's heart had still been pounding in her chest when she was called to the drawing room.<p>

Last night she had seen the tender exchange between her employers. It had done nothing but strengthen her view of Mr Crawley as the white knight in her imagination, which would make his wife the black queen.

This morning had been painful for her. Mr Matthew was taking breakfast and reading the newspaper. She had entered the dining room with his tea.

"Good Morning Sir." She had ventured.

He had barely looked up from behind the paper, not even glanced in her direction.

"Smith." He had said. That was it. No acknowledgement at all really. Never had she heard her name spoken with such lack of feeling. It had cut her to the quick. He had simply turned the page and continued reading.

Mary sat impassively in her chair, her hands folded across her lap. There was nothing in her expression to suggest displeasure or anger. Sarah shifted uneasily, unwilling to meet Lady Mary's eye.

"Are you happy here Smith?" The voice was clipped, perfectly enunciated, and cool.

"Yes my lady." She bobbed appropriately.

"The other staff are treating you well?"

There was another bob.

"And your mother appreciates the extra funds I presume?"

"Yes, my lady."

"And tell me, what is your opinion of my husband?"

Sarah's eyes widened. It did not matter how much she had rehearsed this meeting in her head. She had expected Lady Mary to raise her voice, to be threatened and angry. Not to sit there smoothing her skirt and asking her outright.

"I… err… I don't know what you mean my lady." Sarah stammered.

"Well it's quite simple. What do you think of my husband?"

Smith could only stand with her mouth opening and closing. What was she supposed to say?

"Do you for example think he is an honourable man?"

Sarah nodded.

"You do? Excellent." Mary said almost cheerfully. "Because I can tell you one thing about Mr Crawley, he is a very good man, a fair man, a man devoted to his family, as indeed we are to him."

Sarah said nothing.

"However, something people do not realise about _my_ husband is that he will not tolerate anything that he feels will disrupt the happy running of his household. So despite his natural desire to be compassionate, should something be _seen_ to be, how shall we say, rocking the boat, it will be removed, he is most firm on that."

"Yes my lady." The unfortunate Smith said.

"So, I will ask you again Smith… Are you happy here?"

* * *

><p>It was a furious maid who walked quickly into the village. She wished she could have said something, anything. But no, she had blankly stood in front of Her Ladyship and said yes my lady, no my lady. It was very clear, she had been warned.<p>

"Sarah isn't it?"

She looked up into the genial face of the assistant cook from the Abbey. Daisy instantly noticed something was wrong.

"What's the matter?" She asked innocently.

"Nothing." Sarah muttered. The other girl was close enough in her age and today Sarah had done with bowing and scraping.

If she was offended it didn't show. "Has something happened?"

"It's her Ladyship." Sarah said eventually.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about it. I was always in bother with Mrs Patmore at first, it does get better."

An evil thought occurred to Sarah. "It's not that. She is entertaining a _gentleman_."

Daisy immediately looked shocked. "You shouldn't say such things…" She began.

"No, she is." Sarah said in a loud whisper.

"Who is it?" Daisy asked, unable to resist.

At this Smith was stumped. She had heard Pamuk, but did not know anyone in the area by that name, so she grasped at the only name she could think of off the top of her head, the only name she had recently heard.

"Sir Richard Carlisle."


	11. Assignations

**A/N I'm not really sure what to say about this chapter. The only thing I could think of was Crikey! So, this chapter is rated Crikey! **

**To everyone who has been so kind to listen to my burblings, come on this adventure with me, and generally provide the impetus for me to keep going I thank you from the heart of my bottom.**

**On the subject of revealing spoilers for this story. For one thing, I'm flattered you think I have the faintest idea what is going on. Secondly, my muse is now so off it's trolley that it is holding my teddy hostage and if I spill the beans it starts snipping... think of Mr Bunion!**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>The car slowed as Nanny Stevens and the children walked past the village green. The driver watched the woman carefully. She looked up and caught his eye. Turning the vehicle slowly, Sir Richard Carlisle pulled over to the side of the road.<p>

"Run along now children and play for a little while." She said, ushering them towards the grass. Her tone was so out of character that George gaped at her in surprise.

"I thought you said we should keep clean." He asked as if he could sense a trick.

"Don't worry about that now children. You have been cooped up in the nursery for too long; it will do you good to get some fresh air and exercise." She leant forward. "Why don't we see who can run to the other side of the green and pick a bunch of um… daisies, and then we can make a chain for your Mama?"

Relieved to be finally free from restraint, the three children ran excitedly across the grass, all argument forgotten.

Smiling at her own guile Stevens began to walk in the direction of the newspaper magnet's car. Looking around quickly, she opened the passenger door and got in.

"So those are Lady Mary's children?" Sir Richard said, watching the three figures run away.

"Only two of them, the other boy is her sister's kid. But all of them are a complete nightmare." She said fervently.

Richard nodded his gaze still on the children as they chased each other.

Stevens wondered what he was thinking; she hoped it wasn't a lament for things lost.

"I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me." She said a light teasing in her voice.

If he even noticed, Richard did not care to be teased. "Of course not. It was important that you were in position before they found out I'd been dragged back to this damned place. More important now that Lady Carlisle has taken it into her head to go visiting."

"You think she's up to something?" Stevens asked.

"She has certain… information. I've allowed her to think it powerful enough for me to be persuaded to return. I just want to know what Lady Mary has to do with it."

"I don't understand why you don't just stay the hell away from that woman. She has caused you nothing but trouble, humiliated…"

She stopped as he turned towards her, his eyes ablaze with controlled anger. "That is why I am the owner of a string of newspapers and you are just a junior reporter trying to make her way in the world. I will not be questioned on my reasons!"

Nanny Steven's lips snapped shut. Any other woman would have been tearful, Stevens was not any other woman.

Richard sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.

"They look like her… the children?" He asked.

Nanny was looking out of the window to hide her disappointment. "The boy does. The girl looks like her…" She stopped, aware that what she was about to say might cause another flash of temper.

"Her father." He finished for her. "I suppose it was inevitable."

Richard was still lost in his thoughts as he watched the youngsters playing.

* * *

><p>Lily-beth had sat down in the grass and was busily picking daisies, she was determined that hers would be the best chain for Mama. The boys on the other hand seemed more interested in wrestling and chasing each other. She poked a finger under her hat and scratched at her scalp. The shorn hair itched. Her Mama had told her it was not so bad and she looked just like the chic ladies in Paris who cut their hair very, very short. Papa had looked a little sad, but eventually, lifting her on his knee, he had kissed her cheek and said that she was still the most beautiful girl in the world… apart from Mama of course. Then he had whispered loudly something about hoping Mama wouldn't get any ideas and Mama had rolled her eyes and laughed, saying she just might. Lily-beth hadn't understood what it all meant, but she was very pleased to be a chic lady, even if George said she looked like a hedgehog. Mama promised they would buy her a cloche hat. Lily-beth didn't know what one of those was. The only clock she knew was in the hallway, so she had a very odd picture in her head.<p>

Michael skidded to a halt beside her on his knees, followed closely by George, their faces glowing with the exertion.

"You're squashing them!" Lily-beth squealed.

Her cousin lifted his leg and did indeed reveal some very sorry looking flowers, his face looking apologetic.

"Don't be such a baby, there are hundreds of them." George said quickly.

"I am not a baby, I'm older than you!" His sister snapped back, trying to hit her brother, who deftly moved out of the way.

* * *

><p>"I think you have a fight on your hands." Sir Richard said to his passenger.<p>

Nanny Stevens didn't even bother to look up. "Oh they do that all the time." She said dismissively. "I don't tend to worry about it until one of them starts screaming."

Richard glanced at her, his eyebrow raised. "I didn't pay off a perfectly reasonable Nanny so that you could act like you couldn't care less."

"That Nanny would have paid you to get away from them. And don't look at me like that. It's not my fault the parents won't let me beat them, so sometimes I let them beat each other."

He turned back towards the children as if they fascinated him.

"I know you told me not to question you." Stevens started, "but I really don't see the point in this. The Crawleys are doing absolutely nothing of any interest, unless you count the maid, and that Lady Mary gets right under my skin."

"What maid?"

"Some silly little maid who makes googly eyes at Crawley. You think it's got legs?" She asked hopefully.

Richard shook his head. "No-one really cares what men do. It's unfair, but a way of the world. Besides, there won't be anything in it, he's not the type... Lansdowne is up at the Abbey isn't he?"

"James Lansdowne?" She asked, her interest peaked. "Yes, he is. Do you think Crawley has something to do with his dealings?"

Richard shrugged. "They were in the army together, Lansdowne was his groomsman, what other possible reason could there be for him to be here?"

She nodded in agreement.

"Keep an eye on him, ask the servants at Downton, try and find out what he's up to this time. He's been clever so far, but everyone makes a mistake sooner or later."

"I will." She reached over and laid her hand on Sir Richard's knee. "Speaking of which, when are you going to get rid of her Richard?"

He paused. "Cecily has proved somewhat cleverer than I first thought. She is dangerous to me at the moment. That is why you need to stay where you are and make sure Lady Mary isn't involved."

"But once you have sorted this out, you are going to divorce her?"

He placed his own hand over hers and gave it a squeeze, finally giving her his full attention. "Of course I will." He said oozing charm. "You just have to be patient my darling."

There was an ear splitting scream from one of the children.

"And that I think is your cue." He said.

She genuinely smiled, a rare event for Nanny Stevens, and, reluctantly removing her hand, she got out of the car.

* * *

><p>In the grounds of Downton Abbey James and Edith were taking a stroll in the sunshine. They walked as though there was an invisible barrier between them.<p>

"So where do you think you will go next in the world?" Edith asked politely.

"I'm not sure really, it depends on… many things." He answered lamely.

"Such as?" She looked so innocently at him that for a moment words almost failed.

"You… you can't be completely ignorant as to why I wanted to come here Edith?" He said it so gently, so tenderly that a blush rose to her cheeks. She looked away quickly. He wasn't sure how to read her. It was ridiculous really. Here he was a grown man, a man who was skilled at studying people, and yet she remained a complete mystery to him.

When she did not speak, he assumed the worst.

"Are you at least going to tell my why?" It was petulant, it was childish, but he had to know. The lack of understanding had haunted him many a long Indian night.

She seemed uncertain, wringing her hands in that way she had when someone said something barbed, usually Mary, or when she was uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you all those years ago…" She couldn't explain could she? He would never understand, and after her talk with Mary she wasn't even sure she did anymore. This was James, he was kind and patient. He never laughed at her, or made her feel as though she was the ugly duckling between two beautiful swans. He had come back and now he thought she would still refuse him again. How could she tell him that it was only her fear of disappointing him that had made her run away?

"I did care for you… do; I mean I do care for you." She said with difficulty.

"But not enough." His shoulders sagged.

"It was never that…" Oh why was this so hard?

"So what was it Edith because I love you. I loved you then and I still love you now and I don't think anything is ever going to change that, so because you are the kind sweet person that I know you to be, please, please tell me why and I will never bother you again, I promise."

Her eyes opened wide with surprise at such a declaration. This sort of thing certainly never happened to her, her sisters yes, in romantic novels definitely, but not to ordinary Edith Crawley. She just stared and stared until James turned away in frustration.

"I love you too." Was all she could say.

"You do?" Now it was James' turn to look amazed. "Then why…?"

"Why what?" There were tears in her eyes. "You haven't asked me anything."

He fumbled in his pocket, dropping the small ring box onto the grass. Instinctively they both knelt to pick it up. He reached it first and opened it to reveal the ring. He gazed into her eyes and took her hand.

"Edith Crawley, will you please finally put me out my misery and marry me?"

The threatened tears were now spilling freely. Speech was completely impossible. She could only nod.

Words were then no longer an option as he took her face in his hands and finally kissed her.


	12. A Terrible Event

**A/N I warn you though, this chapter is going to be a little disturbing. I suppose I would be forced to label it as requiring assistance from a mental health professional. Not for those with a weak constitution. A bit 'blinkin' flip!' You have been warned.**

**On a lighter note, Thank you for your concerns about Mr Bunion. I have managed to wrestle him back from my muse when it went to sleep and he is now resting comfortably. For all your reviews, support and interest, my bear and I would like to give a huge thank you.**

**Now brace yourselves, we're going in.**

**Enjoy x**

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><p>"All we are saying my dear, is that men have… needs?" Cora looked pointedly at her daughter.<p>

Mary hid her smirk behind her tea-cup. She was perfectly aware of Matthew's needs, and indeed her own, both of which, she recalled, had been fully satisfied twice the previous night and once again this morning.

"I still don't understand why we are having this conversation Mama, what could you possibly imagine to be the problem?" She asked.

Lady Grantham glanced at Violet, who was no help at all; she only leant on her cane, her lips pursed in disapproval at the subject matter. It was clear _she_ was saying nothing of the sort.

"Well you do only have the twins… dear though they are… and they are four?" Her mother tailed off.

Mary looked askance. "So because I have not been kept barefoot and pregnant for the last five years, you believe that, having done our duty and popped out an heir apparent, that Matthew and I are finished with all of that? Have you had this conversation with Sybil? And even yourself, after all, there were only three of us…?" Mary snapped.

"There is no call to be unpleasant." Cora said, hurt by her daughters harshness.

"Do you consider it pleasant to be meddling in the affairs of my bedroom over tea and crumpets?" Mary said in exasperation.

"Oh for goodness sake," Violet snapped. "It is not meddling. But since you insist on being blunt so shall we. We have heard a rumour that Matthew is taking his comfort in the arms of another."

Mary stared at her grandmother in complete amazement, before collapsing in laughter.

Cora and Violet looked in astonishment at each other before turning their attention back to the young woman in front of them.

"I don't think it is at all amusing." Cora said eventually.

"I'm sorry Mama." Mary said, wiping her eyes. "But really… Matthew? That's like saying Papa had a fling with a housemaid!"

"So you do know?" Violet said. "About the maid?"

Mary paused. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that news had reached her Grandmothers ear, but it was very annoying. "The girl had simply taken a liking to him, that is all; she is very young and impressionable. Come along Granny, you know Matthew. Do you honestly think he would do something like that?"

"So why haven't you just gotten rid of the creature?"

Mary put down her teacup. "Whatever for? She left another position to come to us. She has an elderly mother who she supports and it may be difficult for her to find another job so soon."

The two older women exchanged glances. "And who decided she should stay on that basis." Violet asked sweetly.

"Matthew…" Mary said, "No, we both did."

"But Matthew was the one to speak against getting rid of her. Was your first reaction, by any chance, to send her packing?" Violet said arching an eyebrow.

"I know mine would have been." Cora added fervently.

"Oh honestly!" Mary said in irritation. "There is no way that Matthew is carrying on with a maid. I have spoken to her and I believe she has realised her foolishness."

The Countess of Grantham regarded her granddaughter. "Of course…" She said carefully, "Now if you give her notice, people will believe it is true."

"It is not true." Mary said firmly. "What people anyway! I can't believe the two of you could think such a thing about Matthew. It is so plainly ridiculous."

"Stranger things have happened." Cora said as kindly as she could. "You only have to look at Lord Hepworth darling?"

"I hardly think that is a good example Cora, the Hepworth men are renowned for their… ease of affections. I knew his father."

"I have dealt with the matter." Mary said finally. "Could we please now talk about something else?

* * *

><p>"You're the valet to Mr Lansdowne aren't you?" Stevens asked Thomas as they stood out side the back door smoking.<p>

"Yes, what's it to you?" He replied.

"Nothing. I was just wondering what sort of man hands over a gold watch to someone he has only just met. He must be pretty generous?"

Thomas watched her critically. "Yes I suppose he is. But I did valet for him when he was here before."

"Before?"

"He was after marrying Lady Edith, but she turned him down." Thomas supplied, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Before he went to…India?"

"That's it. Why are you so interested in him all of a sudden?" He asked suspiciously.

Stevens shrugged. "Just making conversation really."

"If you must know, I was doing a few… extras for the gentleman." Thomas said.

"Extras?"

"He asked me to let him know about Lady Edith. If she had a new suitor, if she was ever unwell that kind of thing…"

"So he wanted you to spy on her?" Nanny said.

"No, not really, he didn't want to know what she did or anything like that. Just the major stuff."

"And you did that, listened at doorways, that kind of thing?"

"Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same!" Thomas said sharply, crushing his fag out in the ashtray.

"I'm not judging. But you must hear some really interesting stuff. Like when he is talking to Mr Crawley, what he was really doing out there, in India, that kind of thing?"

He got to his feet, obviously put out at being questioned. "That's none of my business, and certainly none of yours. What he was asking me, it was just for her, it was harmless, nothing happened anyway and I still got my reward. Can't complain… gold watches don't grow on trees. Anyway, don't you have some brats you are supposed to be watching?" He said sharply before he turned and walked back into the house.

* * *

><p>"Daisy Mason, that has got to be the singularly most ridiculous thing I have ever heard come from your lips." Mrs Hughes said expansively. "Where on earth did you get a ridiculous idea like that?"<p>

"But it's what she said Mrs Hughes I promise." Daisy stood wringing her hands under the stern gaze of the housekeeper.

"Then Sarah Smith is obviously deranged because I can assure you, if Lady Mary was to be carrying on, and I don't believe she would for one moment, and then it would be a cold day in hell before it was _that_ gentleman. In fact even if he were the last man on earth…"

"If who were the last man on earth Mrs Hughes?" Mr Carson walked into the housekeeper's sitting room and glanced questioningly at the assistant cook.

* * *

><p>As Mary closed the door behind her, the two Countesses' dispensed with their smiles.<p>

"She is obviously in denial the poor darling." Cora said sadly.

"We are absolutely certain about this aren't we?" Violet replied. Her granddaughter's defence of her husband had seemed entirely genuine.

"You know what Mary is like, stubborn to the last. Not to mention O'Brien witnessed it with her own eyes. She is probably just embarrassed."

Violet still had her eyes on the door. "We also know Matthew? Embarrassed she may be, but one thing we can say about her, she is not one to go down without a fight. Perhaps we need to do a little more research before we proceed any further?"

Privately Cora was a little disappointed in her mother-in-law. Who would have thought Major Bryant would have turned out to be such a cad, or indeed Lord Hepworth. If Matthew was going to take a mistress, then all well and good, but to do it right under Mary and the family's nose was not to be tolerated. Hang the research, she needed to move to phase two and if the Dowager would not support her, she would do it alone.

* * *

><p>Sybil was finding life very different in Belfast. In Dublin she had been used to her friends at the hospital and Tom's family, all wrapped around her like a warm blanket of security. Now she was in a harsh city where no-one and nothing was familiar. Tom had tried to persuade her to stay in their lodgings while he arranged their return, but Sybil wasn't the kind of person who would sit by and wait. Hadn't she endured enough of that in England? The walls had been closing in. So she had ventured out onto the street. The civil war had hardened her. Long gone was the naive girl who believed the world operated in a black and white vacuum. She was by no means stupid. You did not survive the conflict with an accent like hers without some level of cunning. So she walked the pavements of Belfast, not really sure where she was going, or what she was looking for, but there was something Tom was not telling her and this time he had been absolutely adamant in his refusal.<p>

Coming towards her was a woman she recognised as living next to them. When they arrived she had greeted the young couple warmly and had spoken with Tom at some length about the area. As the distance between them now closed, Sybil smiled. Surprisingly, the neighbour's face hardened and she looked away muttering "Sasanach scroblach" before spitting on the ground.

Sybil's heart sank. Obviously in the intervening days she had been overheard speaking to her husband. In public she could affect a passable Irish lilt in her voice, which deception she could get away with as long as she didn't say too much, but at home… she had obviously become careless.

There was no point trying to reason with anyone who openly called her English Scum. This would never have happened in the South, but then she was well known and respected in her old neighbourhood. Suddenly it occurred to her why the Republicans wouldn't accept Tom, why he wanted to return to Dublin as soon as possible. It was nothing to do with him. Their prejudices were purely aimed at her. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that she was the cause of his having to give up the fight. It was coupled with a feeling of the deepest love that he would do that for her and still try to protect her from the knowledge. Of course he would. She turned quickly to go back to the house just as the fuse was lit. He would be waiting for her. She would tell him of her revelation, make him talk to her, and then together they would decide what they would do.

She hurried around the corner, determined to get home without delay, when the world exploded in a cacophony of blast, flames and smoke. Then the screaming began.


	13. Suspicions

**A/N Firstly I would like to apolgise for not posting yesterday, but I don't think any of us could get in? I'm not sure that my muse has gained enough power to shut down a whole site to keep us in suspense... but you never know.**

**Secondly, oh ye of little faith! Would I kill of a major character? That's like saying Matthew is boffing a maid! :) Someone does expire in this chapter, but it is only a bit part actor, and will go on to great things once they've cleaned the ketchup off.**

**But I love that you all cared. :) Thank you **

**Enjoy x**

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><p>The thick smoke caught in Sybil's throat as she tried to get her bearings. There was utter chaos as people ran to safety. As the initial dust began to clear, she could see the sight of the blast, the remains of a small shop at the heart of the street. It had been lucky that she rounded the corner when she did, or she may well have been in mortal danger. Pushing against the throng of people, she made her way back to the epicentre, her inner nurse desperate to see if she could help. There were people lying on the ground in various states of injury. As she had been trained, she began to move from one to the other, immediately checking those in most distress and those who could not be helped. The noise and confusion faded into the background. A young boy lay helplessly on the pavement; his mother crouched over him, cradling him in her arms, weeping. Sybil approached cautiously. The child could have been no older than Michael. Touching the mother's arm she tried to appear calm. "I'm a nurse." She said as the woman turned her tear stained face towards her. But the mother shook her head slowly. Sybil knew this had nothing to do with accent or nationality; there was nothing that could be done. She swallowed the sob that had been building in her throat, and squeezed the devastated woman's hand, before moving on to those who could still be saved.<p>

Other Samaritans had now arrived to help the injured and dying. Sybil found herself taking charge of the situation and directing the new arrivals. She tore her own petticoats for bandages and advised other women to do the same. Soon there was a semi calm camaraderie as the affected were cared for.

Before long the R.U.C. began to arrive, along with ambulances and fire tenders.

The Head Constable approached her as she finished bandaging a man's head where he had been hit by flying shrapnel.

"Miss?" The man said.

"Ah, good." Sybil said getting to her feet and wiping her hands on her now filthy skirts. "The people to the left over there, they need medical attention I'm afraid, more than we can provide here, so I would suggest they should be immediately shipped to a hospital. Those in front, poor devils really didn't stand a chance, I am afraid it is rather grim. Other than that, it is mostly superficial cuts and bruises. Some people were really awfully lucky." She counted herself to be among that number.

The Head Constable blinked as these instructions were given by the young woman in such a soft yet commanding tone.

"Thank you Miss, but we will deal with it from here." He said.

"Oh, of course. I am just glad you are here." She turned to leave when the police officer caught her arm. She looked down at his hand as if it was something quite alien to her.

"I'm sorry Miss, but you _are_ Mrs Sybil Branson?"

Sybil's heart leapt into her throat. What if Tom had been here, what if he had been outside the shop? She tried to retain her composure. She would have seen him amongst the injured… but what if he was so hurt he had staggered away, tried to get home to her. All manner of terrors flew through her mind.

"Yes." She managed to splutter.

"The same Sybil Branson who is the wife of Thomas Branson?"

"Oh God! Oh God!" She thought. It is Tom, something has happened to him.

"What is it?" She said, her hand flying to her mouth.

The Head Constable looked almost embarrassed. "Mrs Branson, I am afraid you are under arrest."

* * *

><p>"Are you all right my lady?" Anna asked as Mary stormed into the hallway of Crawley House, removing her gloves.<p>

"No, Anna, I think we could safely say I am not. I have just been lectured on the dangers of having a maid who is infatuated with my husband. I knew this would happen. I should never have listened to him; she should have gone there and then. Now I am stuck with her." She walked through to the drawing room as the maid followed.

Anna blinked. "You mean Smith?"

"Of course I mean Smith. Where is the wretched girl anyway?"

"She's gone up to the Abbey my lady. Mr Carson wanted to see her."

Mary threw her hands up in the air. "Oh perfect. Now Carson is going to get involved. Does nobody actually think that Matthew has any self control, or even that he'd look twice at the creature? Or for that matter that I can actually deal with my own staff!"

"Smith has been very foolish, but I did speak to her…"

"You spoke to her? I've spoken to her. Matthew barely even looks in her direction if he can help it and now Carson… oh it really is too much. What is going to prove to these people that Matthew and I are perfectly happy? Does he have to throw me across the table and have his way with me at dinner? Oh do pass the salt granny."

Despite herself Mary had to laugh at the very idea. Anna too gave a wry grin. "It might certainly get their attention." She agreed.

Mary sat heavily in the chair, her head in her hands. "It's so unfair on Matthew." She looked Anna in the eye. "You don't believe there is anything in it?"

"No my lady." Anna said with such certainty that it helped temper the wavering of Mary's own.

"What am I going to do? If I let her go now, everyone will think it is because the rumours are true, yet if I keep her on, it will just keep growing and growing."

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><p>As she peeped over the balcony into the hallway, Lady Edith could see James talking on the telephone. She still couldn't quite believe it. She took in the arch of his shoulders, the way he shifted his weight from one side to another as he spoke quietly into the mouthpiece. This was going to be the man she married. This would be the person she would see everyday, wake up with. A small blush coloured her cheeks that she should even think such a thing.<p>

Tonight they would celebrate their engagement with friends and family. A dinner in the couple's honour, again not something she ever expected to happen. Papa had been delighted when James went to ask his permission. Mama had kissed her and smiled. Granny had given that sly grin and whispered 'I told you it would happen.' But it all seemed like a dream. She touched the ring on her finger and gazed at it in wonder.

James was animated in his conversation now. Edith began to descend the staircase. As she reached the bottom, she thought she could make out the word 'bomb' but nothing else. He turned and saw her approaching. His tone changed. Now all he would say was yes, no, or I see. He smiled at her as he talked and rolled his eyes. Before long he said 'goodbye.'

"Is everything all right?" She asked.

"Of course." He replied, steering her towards the dining room. "Just talking to Mother. You know how they go on and on." He said cheerfully. "We must go down. I know she is dying to see you again."

Edith furrowed her eyebrows a little. She didn't want to admit she had been watching him for some time, but his manner had not suggested a man talking to his mother, or the few words she had overheard.

"You're excited about this evening?" He asked. Edith looked into his eyes and saw nothing but his normal admiration and gentleness.

"Yes." She said smiling, firmly putting her suspicions down to an over active imagination. "I think everyone is coming."

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><p>In her own way, Cecily Carlisle was also dealing with suspicion; although she was perfectly aware it had nothing to do with her imagination, her husband was always up to something. Her other option would be to try Matthew Crawley, but somehow she knew that he would be even more unsympathetic than his wife.<p>

She had to try again. She sat at her bureau and began to compose a letter.

_Dear Lady Mary,_

_I apologise for approaching you once again, but I had hoped that, given time, your heart may have been softened towards my plight._

_I realise now that my address to you on our meeting was wrong of me and I am truly sorry if I appeared to be threatening you or your family. Old habits die hard._

_You see, strange though it may seem, I do love my husband, I have done from afar for some years. It is an odd situation, to love someone who does not see you, or even realise that those feeling exist. To see them pay attention to other women whilst you are just a part of the furniture. You would not understand such a thing. _

_To me he is cold. As if his heart has turned to stone, but I do believe that those passions he inappropriately expressed for you still beat in his chest. You I fear are the only one who can help me unlock them._

_So, I do implore you, as one woman to another, if you can find any compassion, please help me find a way out of this purgatory. For, I promise, once Richard's heart is mine, he will never again be a threat to your happiness._

_With hope._

_Yours faithfully_

_Cecily Carlisle_

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><p>Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes stood in the butler's pantry. Sarah Smith looked from one to the other; she had no idea why she had been asked to the big house. Mr Carson frankly terrified her. He wasn't like Mr Moseley, who could easily be made to stammer and blush should he have cause to reprimand her. Then of course there was Mrs Hughes. The woman had seemed kind enough, but not exactly warm where Sarah was concerned. She could only imagine this was another lecture about Mr Matthew.<p>

Things had been very hard for her at Crawley House since he had been made aware of her affections. Now he ensured that they were never alone in the same room. Should she bring his tea or meet him in the hallway, he would simply nod and continue with whatever he was doing. It was the coldness that really stung her heart. She tried to imagine that he felt the same way, and now it was out in the open he was being cautious. She wanted to believe that he watched her when she wasn't looking, but even with the greatest faith, she knew it was not true. Still she hung on to the smallest hope, despite the knowledge that he had no feelings for her at all.

So she prepared to be scolded, once again, for emotions that were outside of her control.

"It has come to my attention that you have said… something… that could be damaging to Lady Mary?" Mr Carson said, glowering at her from under those large eyebrows.

"Mr Carson?" She asked.

"Malicious allegations?" He added. "Allegations which I think you will find will be the end of your time at Crawley House."

She looked at him in confusion and more than a little panic. "I work for Lady Mary." Was all she could squeak.

"That's as may be, but before we decide what is to be done, I want to establish the facts. Did you make these claims or did you not?"

The girl's eyes opened wider. Her moment of spite had been completely forgotten. She had no idea what he was talking about.

"What he is asking Sarah," Mrs Hughes interjected, "Is did you or did you not claim that Lady Mary was _involved_ with Sir Richard Carlisle?"

From his position by the door, Thomas leant back on the wall. This was interesting information. Very interesting indeed. He wondered what Mr Lansdowne would be prepared to pay for it.


	14. Allegations

**A/N Ooooh it's all happening now. The poop is definately going to hit the fan. However, that is still to come. This chapter is reasonably gentle as you would expect for a Sunday (please insert other day if appropriate.) no-one is going to leap out at you, and the cliff hanger is only a couple of inches from the ground with some nice fluffy pillows below it. My muse sits quietly rocking in the corner, all is well. (ish)**

**Thank you again for the amazing response to this story. I am overwhelmed. So for all your support, etc, etc, etc. Mwwwwhhhhhhaaaaa. X X**

**Enjoy x**

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><p>She was amazed that she had gotten as far as the grounds really, before the tears started. The bench was a convenient stopping place. Sarah Smith sat, and they began to overflow. She buried her face in her hands as great sobs wracked her shoulders.<p>

Strangely enough it had not been the scolding from Mr Carson. That great booming voice as he proclaimed how her time in service was very much at an end. Who would employ her now, how would she ever get references? She had questioned the integrity of the 'great' Lady Mary Crawley, and to Carson this was the most cardinal sin of all. Throughout his tirade she had stuck out her chin and looked him in the eye. He could not know about this Pamuk man. She was tempted to tell him, tempted to wipe the smug look from his face. Matthew Crawley deserved so much better. Perhaps she had lied about Richard Carlisle, but still, she was sure in her mind Lady Mary had been untrue. She could believe that her husband would forgive her, he was so good, yet it was so unfair to him. No, indeed, it was not the Butler's reprimand that had caused the tears. As Sarah left, her heart full of defiance, Mrs Hughes had caught up with her. The housekeeper had looked genuinely sad.

"I don't understand why you would do this to your mother."

That was all she had said. There was a kind of resignation in her tone, as though she were the injured party. It was more of a rebuke than the blustering butler could ever deliver.

Now the reality was staring her in the face. She would be dismissed, of that there was no doubt. How would she explain to a mother who had been in poor health and could barely afford to put food on the table? How would she tell her that the main source of her income was gone, and the blame could squarely be placed at her daughter's door? Moreover, the chances of Sarah finding a new position were minimal with no references. It was at this point the consequences of what she had done were finally clear.

The sobs continued. It was only after several minutes that she felt a presence, or rather a trio of presences. She looked up into the faces of the three children, all staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Why are you sad?" Michael asked. He had obviously been designated as the spokesperson of the group.

"Run along now." Sarah said. The tears still streaming down her face.

Lily-beth climbed onto the bench next to her and looked up into the maid's face. It was clear the children had no intention of going anywhere.

"Did you have to cut your hair?" Lily-beth asked. As far as she was concerned the only times she cried were so limited, she tried to equate to what could have upset the maid so.

"No." Sarah replied sharply.

"Did you get in trouble?" George asked, with similar reasoning.

Michael was still watching the girl; he had thoughtfully placed his thumb in his mouth.

Before Smith knew what she was doing she nodded.

"What did you do?" Lily-beth's eyes opened wide, it had never occurred to her before that an adult might be 'naughty'.

This was a difficult question. She could hardly tell the children that she was going to lose her job because she had basically called their mother a loose woman and that she had all kinds of lustful thoughts about their father.

"I said something very silly and now I will have to go home to my mother." She said.

Michael's eyes lit up. "Why are you crying if you get to be with your ma?" He said temporarily removing his thumb, before sticking it back in his mouth.

"Because my mum needs the money I make… Oh why am I even explaining this to a bunch of spoilt babies?" She said in exasperation.

"We're not babies!" George said fiercely, before remembering her tears. His little heart was touched. "I could ask Papa. He is very clever and kind. He always knows what to do when I get in trouble." George said.

Sarah shook her head. "I don't think even your Papa can save me from this one Master George." Not that he would even want to, she added quietly in her head.

A little hand firmly gripped Sarah's as Lily-beth climbed down from the bench and began to lead the maid towards their home. "You can stop crying." She said with the faith in her parents that only a four year old child can have. "Papa will make everything all right."

George took her other hand and for once agreed with his sister. "He will make it all better." They were not taking no for an answer.

* * *

><p>For once the children's disobedience was paying dividends for Yvette Stevens. She had no doubt they would be hiding in the grounds of the Abbey somewhere, probably in the ruins which seemed to be their favourite place. Today she had deliberately brought them up to Downton. She had been distracted by design, and had forced herself to hide her smile as the three of them, true to nature, had crept away. Now she was, for all intents and purposes, forced to look for them.<p>

She made her way up the stairs, asking each member of staff if they had seen the children. It was such a regular occurrence that none questioned her.

"You should keep them on a leash." Thomas had said acerbically as he passed her on his way down. She had merely smiled as said it was definitely becoming an option.

She walked along the upstairs corridor. Finally she came to the room she wanted. Glancing about, she turned the handle and slipped inside.

Nanny already knew that Lansdowne was in the library with Lady Edith, and Thomas was out of the way.

The gentleman's room was neat and tidy. She opened the bedside drawer, but there was nothing of note inside. The same could be said about the wardrobe. Whatever else Thomas might be, it was clear he took some pride in his job.

She was just about to search through the bureau, when a voice made her jump. She could not have closed the door fully behind her and now she cursed that mistake.

"Nanny Stevens. What are you doing?"

She turned to see Lord Grantham's valet, the husband of Lady Mary's insipid maid, he was looking at her suspiciously.

"Mr Bates." She said brightly, wondering how long he had been standing there. "Wouldn't you know, those children are missing… again? I thought they might be hiding up here."

"In Mr Lansdowne's wardrobe?" It was clear the valet did not think this was very likely.

"They seem to have a strange fascination for them. I sometimes worry that they will become frightened if they are mistakenly locked in." She said, trying to smile.

"Well I think you would probably be better employed looking for them outside. I believe I saw them from his Lordship's window running across the lawn." He said dryly.

"Oh thank goodness." Stevens said, with mock relief. "I should hurry down and catch them before they get into any more mischief."

Averting her eyes, she pushed passed Bates and hurried down the stairs. For his part, the valet looked around the bedroom, but seeing nothing amiss, went about his duties with a small frown on his face.

* * *

><p>"All you need to do Mrs Branson is confess." The constable said for what must have been the fifteenth time.<p>

"I am telling you. I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." She replied clearly exasperated. It had been a very long interview. She was filthy, she was tired and more than a little afraid, but still she kept her composure.

The officer sighed and laid his hands on the table, fingers outstretched. The small room in the bowels of the station house was dark and damp. A single oil fired light did nothing to clear the gloom, neither did the tiny barred window which showed nothing more than the passing of the guard's feet every half an hour.

"You are the wife of a subversive. We know Thomas Branson has been writing about the rebels, has been campaigning against the treaty. We have witnesses that saw you in the street. The republicans have been quiet of late, and we know your husband was recently refused admittance to their ranks. What did the two of you decide, that you would set an explosion and show them what you could do?"

Sybil stared into the man's eyes defiantly. "That has got to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I am a nurse Constable. My vocation is to save lives, not to take them. And Tom would never advocate the taking of innocent lives. That child… do you honestly think that I would take the life of a child? I have a son the same age, what mother… what father could do that?"

"You would be surprised what people will do in the name of a cause Mrs Branson, or do you prefer Lady Sybil?" He smiled as if he had shared some secret piece of information.

"My family connections are of no consequence here and they are also no secret, but you can call me Mrs Branson, that is my name. I would not be that surprised what man can do. I attended the victims of the Great War and the civil war, treated mangled limbs and broken bones. There is no way I could ever cause such injuries."

The R.U.C. officer raised his eyebrows. "I want to believe you Mrs Branson, I really do. But perhaps you could explain to me why your husband was arranging passage out of the territory for as soon as the bombing had been completed? You will of course be aware that we had been watching him since you first arrived?"

"If you have been watching us then you know that we had nothing to do with this atrocity!"

"We know that he was seen meeting with the Republicans, we know that he has been speaking to many people involved with guerrilla attacks, and we know that his wife was reported to be on the very street where a bomb went off injuring a great many loyal civilians. Are you trying to tell me that all of that is simply a string of co-incidences?"

"Yes. I am!"

The man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "All right. Let us say I believe you." It was clear that he did not. "Perhaps you could tell us where your husband can be found."

Sybil opened her mouth and closed it again without speaking. She had automatically assumed that Tom was currently in the building, that he had also been arrested.

"You did not know that your lodgings were empty? That your husband appears to have disappeared from the face of the earth?" He asked.

She still did not speak.

"We can only assume that he has taken the passage he was arranging. But rest assured, no matter how clever he thinks he is we will find him."

"He has nothing to do with this, and neither do I!" Sybil said again.

The Constable shook his head sadly. "I admire your loyalty to your husband, I really do Mrs Branson, but I am afraid I do not believe in co-incidences. I have no doubt that both of you are mixed up in this, and it would appear that Thomas Branson has abandoned you to your fate."

"I believe I have a right to a solicitor before I answer any more of your questions." Sybil said with far more bravado than she felt.

"Of course. We can arrange for counsel for you."

She shook her head firmly. "I can make my own arrangements." She said raising her chin. "There are some advantages in family connections after all and I can assure you, you are going to be very sorry for your accusations."


	15. Accusations

**A/N This chapter may prove a little uncomfortable for some people. It was a little uncomfortable for me to write. As we go on things are going to get even more difficult, so consider this as standing on the edge of hot coals. We shall walk across it together, it's going to hurt, but have faith and we shall prevail... blimey that was nearly poetic. Just prepare yourself for some angst people.**

**Thank you again to everyone who has been so kind to review and favourite and watch and all that voodoo that you do so well.**

**Enjoy x**

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><p>There was a great clatter as the children virtually dragged Sarah Smith through the front door of Crawly House. She had wanted to go around to the back, to the servant's entrance, but they were having none of it. Such distinctions were lost of the Crawley twins and especially on their cousin.<p>

Anna came from the kitchen. She took in the tear stained girl and the agitated children.

"What is going on?" She asked in a loud whisper.

"Smith needs to see Papa so he can tell her how to not be in trouble." George said confidently.

"Your Papa is very busy. I don't think he can stop everyone being in trouble today." Anna said calmly.

George stuck out his chin defiantly. "It's what Papa does. He told me, he writes things and sometimes has to go into a big room and tell everyone why a man is not in trouble."

"I don't think this is the sort of thing that even your father is going to be able to make go away." Anna said kindly, eyeing the younger maid. Whatever Mr Carson had said to her, it certainly had some effect. "Why don't you go and see if Mrs Bird has any milk and biscuits for you, I think she was baking a new batch?"

"No!" Lily-beth said stamping her foot and pouting angrily.

"Elizabeth Violet Crawley, you apologise to Anna this instant." Matthew said sternly as he opened the door to his study.

"Papa!" She said turning to face him, immediately becoming animated... "Smith is ever so sad and her Mama will not have any food and she will have to go and live with her…"

George joined in, equally excited "…Because Smith was naughty and now she is very sorry so please will you help her?" He pleaded.

"First of all, what did I just say?" Matthew kept his eyes on the little girl. His expression kind, but it was clear he was not to be moved on this.

"I am sorry Anna for being rude." She said dutifully, before turning back to her father with expectation on her face.

"And where might I ask is Nanny Stevens?" Matthew asked.

"Um…" The twins looked at each other then guiltily at their shoes. Michael immediately stuck his thumb in his mouth and averted his eyes.

"I don't know about Smith needed to get out of trouble, I think the three of you are going to have some explaining to do." He said firmly. "Now go to the nursery and I don't want to hear a noise until I call you, do I make myself clear?"

The three murmured, and muttered 'Yes Sir' and 'Yes Papa' before trooping off to the nursery in a dejected line.

"Right." Matthew said, indicating that Smith should enter the study. Reluctantly she did so. "Anna, I wonder if you would mind joining us?" Matthew said as the older maid moved to retreat into the kitchen. She smiled in understanding and followed Smith into the study as he closed the door behind the three of them.

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><p>It was with a heavy heart that Robert dressed for Edith's engagement dinner. He should have been elated but his head was still reeling from the conversation with his wife. Of course the earl was torn. On the one hand for Matthew to be humiliating his daughter, should it be true, it made his blood boil, but on the other, was he any better? He had sent Jane away before any real damage could be done. No, he stopped himself, she had been the better person, she had left and he had let her. Had he been younger could he honestly say he would have acted the same way?<p>

"Is there something on your mind your lordship?" Bates asked, ever sensitive to his employer's moods.

"I have a very difficult task ahead."

The valet frowned, his intuition telling him that Robert was not referring to the dinner.

"Sir?" He asked.

"Lady Grantham believes… in fact she is quite insistent…" He stopped himself. How was he going to broach the subject with Matthew when he couldn't even bring himself to say the words to his former batman?

Bates said nothing.

"If a man was to be unfaithful to his wife, be in such a position that he was able to take advantage of a vulnerable girl for his own needs…" He tailed off.

"Then such a man should look to his own conscience." Bates said amiably as he brushed his lordship's shoulders.

Robert turned to look at the man sharply. Suddenly he wondered what Bates had actually seen that day Jane came to his dressing room. The guilt was almost tangible, but the valet's expression betrayed nothing.

"Your Lordship?" Bates questioned.

"Never mind." Robert turned and checked his reflection in the mirror. He would just have to cross the Rubicon alone.

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><p>Violet watched the couples around the table. James and Edith shared small smiles and he would touch her hand as if constantly reassuring her. The Dowager understood how rare it was for her middle granddaughter to be the centre of attention. It pleased her that Edith's beau clearly understood that too and was taking steps to provide his support.<p>

Her sharp eyes also fell on Matthew and Mary. There was something however, in Matthew's demeanour that did not quite ring true. He did not seem as relaxed as normal in the company of his wife and that sent alarm bells ringing for the old lady.

Mary seemed entirely herself. She chatted and smiled as if she had not a care in the world, but her husband seemed more and more distracted.

"Really Matthew, James was speaking to you." She chided playfully.

Matthew looked up as though he had just woken from a dream. "What? Sorry."

"I don't know, you have been in a daze all evening, whatever is the matter." Mary said quietly.

"When we get home I need to talk to you." He said holding her gaze.

There was something in that look, a separate meaning that he needed to convey. It spoke of love and trust and something else Mary could not decipher. She searched his face for a clue, placing her hand over his. He looked down at her delicate white fingers, caressing the little finger with his thumb.

"You really are starting to alarm me." She said quietly.

He leant towards her and brushed his lips against her ear. "There is no need to be alarmed. I am sorry; I will try to be more jovial." He moved away, smiling to everyone as if there was nothing to worry about. Now it was Mary's turn to be thoughtful.

The Dowager Countess watched this whole exchange with interest. It was with a sinking feeling that she wondered if this was in fact the further investigation she needed.

* * *

><p>Robert looked over the top of his brandy glass at Matthew. He had asked the young man into his study on the pretext of discussing the estate, begging the other male diners to forgive them and entertain themselves. Matthew seemed utterly normal. He wondered if he had affected such a regular demeanour. "What was it you needed to discuss?" Matthew asked.<p>

Robert swilled his drink thoughtfully. "I was just thinking how odd it is, for us to be surrounded by these young, pretty, women each and every day."

Matthew frowned slightly. It seemed an unusual topic of conversation for his cousin and even stranger for his father in law, and what's more had nothing to do with the estate.

"Isn't that the definition of heaven?" he asked trying to lighten the mood. It did not appear to work.

"I mean the temptation Matthew. Young girls, vulnerable, and we are in control of their destinies. Sometimes you want what you simply should not." He said sadly. "But that does not make it any easier."

"Is everything all right Robert?" There was genuine concern in the younger man's voice.

"No Matthew it is not. I won't insult you by beating around the bush. I have heard about you and the maid."

For several moments the heir was severely struck dumb. He knew exactly what Robert was referring to, but somehow to have it thrown at him in such a manner… so he clutched at the only thing he could think of, hoping against hope he had been mistaken.

"Good God Robert, you don't think Anna's condition has anything to do with me!" He joked

The earl stared at him, not sure if this was an attempt at concealment or even some warped humour, but all he saw was the genuinely open face of the young man he had come to think of as his son.

"Anna… no, of course not." He said eventually.

"I should hope not. Bates, loyal though he is, would no doubt have some serious grounds for recourse if that was the case." Matthew replied hoping that Robert would see the absurdity of what he was saying.

"No… I am referring to my daughter's new lady's maid."

Matthew sighed. "Smith?" he asked.

"That's it. Smith."

"She is barely old enough to be in service."

"That said, there is many a girl who has had her head turned in such a situation, need I remind you of Ethel and Major Bryant?"

"No indeed you do not." Matthew's tone was harsh, but he still tried to keep it under control. To be compared to that cad.

"Believe me dear boy. I understand what it is like. You are flattered by a young woman's attentions and before you know it, there is no turning back." The earl looked so crestfallen into his drink that Matthew wondered if they were still talking about him.

"I assure you…" He began.

Robert raised his hand to stop his son in law. "I have not told anyone this, indeed it is something I am deeply ashamed of, but I too have succumbed to temptation."

"Robert…" Matthew did not know what to say.

"Jane was her name, and she was the prettiest little thing, so trusting and sweet… and I took advantage of it, a moment of weakness." He took a large swig from his glass. "So I can understand the girl Smith being… irresistible."

Matthew was shocked by what he had heard, doubly so in that his own guilt seemed to have been decided. "What have I done to warrant this accusation?" He demanded. "I have never even looked twice at her."

"There has been talk Matthew." That was all the earl would say. "Cora has witnesses."

"I don't care who Cousin Cora she thinks she has!" Matthew was trying to keep his tone calm, he got to his feet. "I have never, nor will I ever lay a hand on that girl. To think that for one moment you could believe that I would betray Mary, that I would want to lie with another woman is beyond… words!" He spluttered pacing backwards and forwards.

Robert watched in alarm.

"The women in this family… they set themselves up as jury and executioner… and Cousin Cora…"

"Steady Matthew." Robert warned before something was said which could not be unsaid.

The young man stared at Robert, his eyes ablaze with fury and injustice. In that instance, that second of clarity, the earl of Grantham knew he had just made a terrible mistake.

* * *

><p>He barely said anything as they joined the ladies, then pleading a need to complete some work, Matthew insisted that he and Mary returned to Crawley house.<p>

Sensing her husband's mood, she did not try to find out the cause, only stating that she would be retiring, in the hope that he would join her. It was a sting when he declined.


	16. Angst

**A/N Oh the angst. I apologise most profusely for my muse. I have in fact tempered the little monster and insisted we could not leave it where it wanted to, which would have been plainly cruel. We are still in the throws of agony I'm afraid, part of the way across the mire, but... there will be light at the end of the tunnel, I promise. So I am sorry for doing this to you on Valentines day... think of it as an antidote for all the slush. **

**Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review. I promise I will get to replies, but these last couple of chapters have really been hard work. To everyone, thank you for the support. It is the only thing that makes this story possible.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>Cora walked into the library to find her husband, the last of the guests having been despatched to waiting motor cars or their respective rooms. The tail end of the evening had become a little flat and she felt bad for Edith, but obviously Robert must have broached the subject of the maid with Matthew. That at least she saw as a positive.<p>

"You were wrong." Robert said softly before she could even speak. He stared straight ahead, not meeting her eye.

She stood by the sofa silently.

"Matthew is definitely not taking advantage of that maid." He added for clarity.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"You told me that they had been seen together Cora, clearly this was not the case was it?"

When she failed to answer, he turned his head towards her. "Was it?" He said firmer.

"Not actually as such." She had to concede eventually, "But all the evidence was there."

"But it really wasn't was it?" He said wearily. "You assumed the worst. You could not leave them to sort things out for themselves… Matthew was right about the women in this family." He said passionately.

"What about the women in this family?" Cora was now on the offensive. She may have been wrong about the maid, but for Matthew to speak ill of her girls.

"Never mind." Robert dismissed the comment. "Only, I really don't know how I am going to repair the damage this has done."

* * *

><p>Sarah Smith entered the study. In truth she wanted to be a million miles away, but the boy had said the telegram was urgent. She had not expected <em>him<em> to be there.

"Oh I'm sorry sir. I thought everyone had gone to bed."

"Well in this case they haven't. I have rather a lot to do, so if you could excuse me." It was cold, it was harsh and Sarah felt every last slap of the words.

"Mr Crawley…" She began. "There is a telegram for you, from Ireland."

He took the proffered note without a look at her. Undoing the seal he read the contents and seemed to be suddenly carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Is everything all right Sir?" She asked.

"That will be all Smith." Even to his own ears the words sounded cruel and unfeeling, but this had to be the way. His conversation with Robert still rang in his head.

* * *

><p>When Matthew still had not appeared for bed an hour later, Mary decided to seek him out. She looked over the banister and saw the girl leave Matthew's study. Smith stopped outside the door and leant against it. There were tears in her eyes. She sighed as if her heart had broken before making her way towards the back of the house. A gnawing, vicious thought wakened in Mary's mind, it was the spawn of conversations with her Mama and Granny. She crept down the stairs; she placed her hand on the door handle and pushed. Matthew had his back to her, his shoulders bowed.<p>

"Are you coming to bed darling?" She said softly. He started at her voice.

"I just have a little more work to do." He replied, without looking back. He was reading a telegram, a frown on his face. He screwed it up quickly before she could see its contents.

She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek.

Perhaps I could make it a little more bearable for you. She whispered.

"Mary." He protested. But his reticence only spurred her on. She swivelled the chair so that he faced her. She pressed her lip briefly to his. As her slim fingers began unfastening his belt she sank seductively to her knees between his thighs.

His hands caught her wrists, stopping her, his blue eyes staring intently into hers.

"Are you… are you doing this because you want to?" His voice cracked slightly, "Or… because you have just seen Smith leave this room?"

If Lady Mary Crawley was practised at hiding her true feelings, this was a time to excel.

"Of course it's because I want to." She said brightly, a look of complete innocence on her face. But it was too late. Matthew knew his wife well, and there was the split second before her 'public face' when her true raw emotions shone through, he saw her suspicions.

"Oh Mary, not you too! How could you even…" Matthew was shocked. He pushed himself away from her and stood up, quickly refastening his belt. His face filled with complete and utter disbelief. That soon gave way to self righteous anger. "In all these years I have never once given you cause to doubt me… how you could even consider for one moment that I would be unfaithful to you, that I would even look at another woman… let alone one barely a child!"

"I… I didn't… Matthew…" She was still kneeling, stunned by his sudden temper. She did not know of his talk with her father.

"Well clearly you did, I saw it in your eyes Mary or we wouldn't even be having this conversation. How dare you Mary, after everything we have been through together… I don't care about anyone else, but for you to think…" He was again lost for words.

"There has been talk… She tried again getting to her feet.

"So if there is 'talk' that makes it all right does it? This talk is a powerful thing… your Papa believes it! Do you also really believe I have so little self control?

Mary clenched her hands into fists, the nails biting into her palms as her heart sank. This was it, this was the moment. She had rarely seen Matthew so furious. Finally he was going to break his promise, he would throw her own moral failure back at her and she thought that if he did it would completely break her heart.

"Do you have so little faith in my love for you, do you really have such a low opinion of me as a husband and a father that you think I would take a mistress!" He turned away, but quickly changed his mind. "Not only that, but you think I would do so under my own damned roof!" Matthew knew he shouldn't be shouting, but as his anger rose, so did the volume of his indignation. "Do you know I almost wish I _had_ bedded the bloody girl because at least then I would have actually done something to be accused of!" With that he turned and stormed out of the room.

She finally let go the breath she hadn't even been aware she was holding. Even then, even in the heat of his hurt and anger, he hadn't thrown Pamuk in her face. She just had to hope than when he calmed down, she could make him see reason, but in the meantime, she couldn't help herself as the tears of relief and the injustice of it all overflowed.

* * *

><p>Mary sat at her dressing table, her head in her hands. The tears just would not stop coming<p>

"Oh Anna." She said once again burying her head.

The maid came to her and laid a comforting arm on her mistress' shoulders.

"Did you… did you hear?" Mary asked through sobs.

"I think the whole house heard." Anna confessed. Matthew Crawley rarely raised his voice, to the children, the staff or especially to Lady Mary. "Don't worry. He will come around once he's calmed down. It's not as if it is the first time you have argued…" She said, in an attempt to make her feel better.

Mary looked her in the eye. "It's just so unfair, and it is the first time I have ever appeared to doubt him." She said sadly.

"Do you… doubt him?"

Mary shook her head as the sobs started again.

"Then why…?"

"Because everyone was telling me and telling me and that damned girl and oh I don't know, I knew it couldn't be possible. This is Saint Matthew Crawley for God's sake, but…"

"You had to be sure?"

Mary nodded. "And now I might have lost him."

Anna got up briskly. "Now that is not the attitude is it? Lost him indeed, once you have both had a good night's sleep you will get up tomorrow and you will make it right. He is a very good man, you know that."

Sadly Mary nodded.

"You know that he spoke to Smith this afternoon?"

Mary raised her head in surprise.

"He asked me to be present so there could be no misunderstandings." Anna said, anticipating her question. "But he wanted to talk to you before any final decisions were made."

"What did he say to her?"

Anna sighed. "I think that is something you will need to discuss with him. But I can assure you, he is as true to you as he ever was, and if I may say so, a very honourable gentleman."

Mary got to her feet. "I should go to him." She said looking at the maid, the weight of Matthew's fury still ringing in her ears.

"I should leave it until the morning if I were you my lady. Give him a chance to recover himself?"

Reluctantly Lady Mary agreed, and made her final preparations for bed.

* * *

><p>Lying in the lonely bed in his dressing room, Matthew folded his arms behind his head. It was unlikely that he would sleep at all tonight. He stared up into the dark. Of all people he thought Mary knew him better than anyone else, that was what hurt, not what anyone said. Yes that was irritating, but he knew that double standards still prevailed and it was actually doing more harm to the maid's reputation that it ever would to his. It was Mary's doubt, the thought that inside her she really believed he could do such a thing.<p>

Then there was Sybil. He tried to focus on her troubles, on the note, but all he could think of was his wife's eyes and that he'd lost his temper. It tore at his very soul to think he had been so angry.

Bare feet padded along the corridor. The handle to Matthew's dressing room was turned slowly, as the owner of the feet slipped quietly into the room. He turned his head to look at her, standing there in her nightdress, a look of fear, innocence and uncertainty on her young face.

Silently Matthew pulled back the covers, and beckoned her to come to him.

* * *

><p>"Papa… why were you shouting at Mama?" Lily-beth asked, her blue eyes threatening tears as she and Miss Florence cuddled up next to her father in his bed.<p>

Matthew sighed. "Because Mama thought that I had done something very naughty." He said.

"But you didn't?" She asked, a slight frown on her little face.

"No, so I was angry that I was being told off for something I hadn't done."

She seemed to be trying to understand.

"Have you ever done anything naughty Papa?"

A flash of guilt crossed his memory; music, a dance, a kiss and a confession. He shook away the image.

"Yes my darling, I did once do something very naughty."

She played with Miss Florence's dress. "Miss Stevens does that sometimes, to George…"

"Miss Stevens does what?" he asked confused.

"Sometimes she tells him off and if George argues and says that he hasn't done anything, she just says that he has done it once and even if he hasn't done it this time it will only be a matter of time until he does it again anyway."

Matthew stared at his daughter. "So that's what Miss Stevens thinks is it. That George will always be naughty because he has been before?"

Lily-beth shrugged her shoulders and lay down with her head on her father's chest. He stroked her hair thoughtfully. Within a few minutes she was fast asleep. Matthew lay there for a while. 'Out of the mouths of babes.' He thought. It was only overtaken as his own words to his son came back to haunt him. "Would a brave man run away and hide?"

Lifting his slumbering daughter, he carried her gently to her bed. It was time to put aside hurt pride and indignation. He needed to tell Mary what had happened with Smith, and now on top of that, the trouble Sybil was in. He would have to travel to Ireland tomorrow, and he could not leave things here in upheaval. He brushed a hand through his hair before heading, with some humility, back to his wife's bedchamber.


	17. Reconciliation

**A/N All your patience will be rewarded you lovely lovely people. Things will soon be back on an even keel. This is pure fluff, fluff, fluff to make us all feel warm and fuzzy and happy again with the world after all the angst.**

**Thank you once again to everyone who is supporting this story. I do so very much appreciate it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.**

**Enjoy x**

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><p>Mary could not sleep. She lay on her side facing the window in the dark, the entire scene playing over and over again in her head. He had been so angry and hurt, and she couldn't say that she blamed him. Whatever had possessed her, when would she learn not to listen to what people said to her? The irony of it all was not lost. She had told Matthew countless times he must never pay attention to the things she said. Perhaps she should apply the same maxim to her mother and grandmother.<p>

It all became too much. Getting out of bed she turned on the light and began walking up and down, clenching and unclenching her fists. This was ridiculous. Knowing Matthew it was unlikely he was able to sleep either, so they would both just lie apart awake when really all they needed to do was communicate.

Matthew Crawley was going through a similar thought process, and was also pacing, although he was doing so in the corridor outside their room. What was he going to say to her? He had spoken so harshly, some might even say cruelly. He had pulled away from her as though she disgusted him.

For Mary there was also some hesitation. She had rarely seen him so angry, and Anna's words did make sense, to let him calm down. But then Mary had very rarely done the sensible thing. Making a decision she opened the door, only to find Matthew standing on the other side.

They eyed each other warily, each assessing if hostilities were to be resumed and at the same time dealing with their own guilt.

"Um… Sybil has been arrested." Matthew said awkwardly. It was the easier conversation to have."

Mary's eyes widened. "Oh the poor darling! You will of course help her?"

Matthew nodded. "I thought I might travel to Ireland tomorrow. It was only a matter of time."

She bowed her head as if in acknowledgement.

"They are claiming she planted a bomb." He added.

Mary gasped. She and Matthew had often considered that something like this might happen. Her sister was a hostile in the middle of a war. But that still had not prepared her for the reality.

"Will you tell Papa?" She asked, slightly surprised at her husband's wince.

"Yes of course." He said eventually.

It was so polite, so civilised, and so very British. Not so long ago, he had been shouting at her, now a tragedy had struck, and they stood on the threshold to her bedroom discussing it calmly and rationally.

"How long will you be gone?" She asked.

"I'm… I'm not sure." He frowned. "It depends on the strength of their case, the evidence they have before them, that kind of thing."

"Sybil will be glad to have you there."

They each stared at the patch of carpet in front of them. Neither wishing to bring up the argument, to take them back to that place.

"Oh God Mary!" He sighed. Their eyes met. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

"It should be me apologising to you." She said.

He reached out for her hand, staring at it as though it might disappear. Turning it over, he brought it to his lips, gently kissing the inside of her wrist.

Instinctively she cupped his face in that hand, her thumb stroking his cheek. He stepped into the room, burying his face in her neck as they clung to each other.

He sighed again and pulled away. "We should talk about…" He said.

She placed a finger over his lips to silence him. Her hands found his, their fingers entwined as she stepped forwards, noses barely millimetres apart. Her eyes lowered, she barely touched his lower lip with a gentle kiss. She pulled back slightly as they're noses nuzzled against each other.

They came together again, lips and tongues in a slow dance of apology, regret and forgiveness. Releasing his hands, Matthew placed them around Mary's waist, pulling her closer into him as the kiss deepened and became something more intense. Her hands snaked around him, fingers searching under his robe until they found the bare flesh of his back. She allowed her fingernails to rake gently across the skin and was rewarded as, with a low moan, he pulled her in tighter.

With one arm circling her waist, his other hand slid upwards to tangle in her hair, not the slightest gap remained between them as they merged together, their kisses becoming more impassioned. Pausing for breath, Matthew once again bent to her neck, only this time to nibble firmly the top of her shoulder, working upwards towards her ear. Mary arched towards him, her eyes closed as she sighed. He urgently found her lips again, there were no words needed, their bodies would say everything that needed to be said to make things right between them. Without breaking contact with his love, Matthew kicked the bedroom door shut behind him.

* * *

><p>They lay facing each other. Matthew lifted his hand to brush a stray piece of hair out of Mary's eyes.<p>

"I love you Matthew Crawley." She said, kissing his hand.

"I love you too." He replied, stroking her hair. "I'm afraid this trip of mine is going to make things rather inconvenient."

Mary raised her eyebrows in question.

"I spoke to Smith this afternoon. Don't worry; I had Anna as chaperone…"

"I know," Mary said softly.

He nodded, "I expect Anna told you?"

"Only that you had spoken to her."

"The whole thing has gotten completely out of hand. You know your Papa believes me guilty, even claims that your mother had witnesses! I am afraid I may have been quite rude to him."

Mary's eyes widened. She could imagine how her Mama's good intentions may have allowed for a little artistic licence. No wonder Matthew was so angry.

"Smith also had a little run in with Carson… the children brought her here believing I could wave some magic wand and make everything right." He seemed pained.

"But you can't." it was not a question, rather a statement of fact.

"No, I can't. However, the girl has to go, of this there can be no doubt. She can stay on here until I find her another position, that will discharge our responsibilities, but in the meantime her duties will be confined entirely to you. She does understand that I have never regarded her as anything other than a maid, and that her attentions were inappropriate and unwelcome."

Mary nodded. "I know they were, and if you believed I thought otherwise…" He silenced her with a kiss.

"The problem my darling, sacking her is going to mean everyone will think what they have heard is true." He searched her face for a reaction. "Especially with me going away for a while…"

"But it's hardly fair…" She began.

"Things rarely are. I know it is a lot to ask, but it appears once again I am asking you if you can weather the inevitable storm?"

"Someone once told me I was a storm braver if ever they saw one?" She said smiling as she leant across for another kiss.

* * *

><p>As Matthew walked through the entrance hall of Downton Abbey, he felt apprehensive. It had been so long since he had felt nothing but comfort in those walls, the feeling was alien and uncomfortable. He met Robert coming the other way, dressed for a walk with Isis. Matthew looked away awkwardly.<p>

"Matthew. I was coming to see you." Robert said.

"I feel I must apologise…" Matthew began. His temper of the previous evening was still very fresh in his mind, and its associated guilt.

"Nonsense." Robert said seriously. "It is I who should apologise to you. I was wrong and I am deeply, deeply sorry for the offence I caused you."

Matthew's eyes widened in surprise.

"It seems that Cora was misinformed, a case of Chinese whispers, we now both realise our mistake. I can only hope that you will be able to forgive me."

Matthew smiled, how could he refuse such a heartfelt apology? He held out his hand to Robert who shook it gratefully.

"There is something else Robert." The younger man said, handing over the telegram. The earl read it carefully.

"Good God!" He exclaimed.

"I am to take the boat across this afternoon and see what can be done. I'm afraid we don't have any details about the whereabouts of Branson, it is only Sybil who seems to be in custody."

"What was that?" Edith asked as she came in from her morning walk, James was close behind.

Matthew looked to Robert who nodded a reluctant approval.

"It… it seems our worst fears have been realised and Sybil has been arrested."

Edith's hand flew to her mouth. "On what charge?"

"My Darling, the charge is really immaterial." Robert said kindly. "She is a member of the English aristocracy in a land where they are despised. I am only surprised this has not happened before."

James looked from one man to the other. "I can come with you Crawley. If it will help? I have contacts in the foreign office who can make the whole process an awful lot smoother."

Edith gazed up at her fiancé. "You would do that? What ever must you think of this family?"

He smiled down at her. "I think it would be worth doing just to have you look at me like that." Turning to his friend he added. "So how about it Crawley? Just like old times."

* * *

><p>Sir Richard Carlisle read the ticker tape message over his breakfast. He was always annoyed that Cecily insisted on joining him. He paused, his coffee cup halfway to his lips as he read the report again.<p>

_Lady Sybil Branson arrested on charges of terrorism._

"Something interesting Richard?"

"Lady Mary's sister has been arrested in Ireland." He also hated the way she watched him constantly. In fact there were all manner of things about his new wife which were rapidly driving him mad.

"Oh how awful! She must be devastated."

"I don't think Lady Mary Crawley is the kind of woman to allow herself an emotion as common as devastation." He snapped.

"Now Richard that isn't really fair. I found her to be quite charming…" Cecily smiled, still watching for the slightest reaction.

"She is a very good actress." He said sharply, "I may need to go down to London this afternoon, I will not be back until the morning." He added, before making it clear there was to be no further conversation.

Cecily twirled her coffee cup thoughtfully. She had hoped to receive a response from Lady Mary with regard her note. Now with her sister being in trouble, it would be unlikely to warrant her notice. That really was most vexing. Cecily decided that another visit to Crawley house would be in order, to extend her sympathies of course. And the sooner rather than later.


	18. Departures

**A/N Buckets of apologies for not getting this chapter up yesterday. I seem to be having all manner of problems with the site at the moment. It will not let me log in then when it does I cannot save anything and ... well suffice to say, it has taken me this long to get the chapter up, so sorry. Circumstances beyond my control but jolly annoying none the less.**

**We've had some fluff so it stands to reason things are about to go awry again. But nothing too scary, I promise. **

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed (I will get to responding I promise) watched, favourited or alerted my story. I am so grateful for all your support.**

**Thanks again.**

**Enjoy x**

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><p>James Lansdowne looked around carefully to check he was alone before lifting the telephone receiver and asking the operator for the number. He waited impatiently. Although he was fairly sure everyone was out of the way, he realised he had been lacking in caution when Edith caught him previously. It was a mistake and he needed to be careful if everything was going to work out.<p>

"Lansdowne." He said, as the other caller came onto the line.

"I need you to find out everything you can about a prisoner of the RUC in Belfast. Lady Sybil Branson."

He listened carefully, glancing back to check he was not overheard.

"Yes, yes. I am going to be travelling to the city this afternoon. Can you arrange for someone to meet me?"

He paused again.

"Indeed. I know what I said, but if I do this, I will be discharged… You will honour your end of the agreement… no it is not negotiable."

After listening for a few more moments, he ended the call and hung up.

Not the ideal situation, but it would mean he would finally be free to give Edith the life she deserved without any fear or danger. He was sorry to drag Crawley into it. Hopefully things would go well, and his friend would never need to know, but then in James' experience, things never went according to plan.

* * *

><p>In his dressing room Matthew picked up the small case he was to take with him. He looked around the room. It hurt him to think that Mary was going to have to deal with the inevitable domestic fall out, but with luck he would be able to negotiate Sybil's release and be home quickly. If it came to a legal fight, then he would have to send for Murray, Robert had already apprised the lawyer of Sybil's problem, but Matthew hoped it wouldn't come to that.<p>

Mary came into the room behind him. He turned to smile at her.

"The children want to say goodbye." She said quietly.

"What did you tell Michael?"

"I haven't told them anything, just that you have to go away for a little while to help someone who is in trouble and only Papa will do. They actually thought this was entirely plausible. I did not want to worry the boy unnecessarily."

Matthew nodded, he held out his arms to her as Mary stepped into his embrace.

"I'll try to be back as soon as I can." He murmured into her hair.

She nodded against his chest before pulling away. It was then he noticed the item in her hand.

"Really?" He said quizzically.

"It worked before, so I think you should at least humour me." She said seriously.

Taking the battered little dog he stroked it fondly with his thumb. "I don't believe I am going to be in any danger." He said.

"Even so. I would be happier if you had it with you."

He nodded in resignation before putting it in his pocket.

* * *

><p>It was with some difficulty that Matthew managed to extricate himself from the arms of the twins. Lily-beth seemed positively convinced that if she held on she could somehow keep her father here by sheer will power.<p>

"Now then." He said standing up. Three young faces looked up at him. "I expect each and every one of you to behave exceptionally well for Mama and Nanny Stevens. I do not want to hear of any mischief while I am away."

The children murmured.

"I want you to promise to at least try." He said.

"Promise." The three said together.

"Good, now run along, I have a train to catch." The children reluctantly walked away.

"You do realise that they have made a promise they cannot possibly keep." Mary said, straightening his lapel entirely unnecessarily.

"But I can promise _you_ that I will be back before you know it. We will sort this out with Sybil. I'm grateful for James actually, he will be a help with his contacts."

"I know." Mary said. Despite what she knew, it felt as though he were once more going off the war. She remembered the feeling as she'd seen him off on the train; he is in his uniform, the first time the little dog had gone adventuring. Now, as then, she was reluctant to let him go. She understood their daughter's reaction entirely, because she too wanted to cling on to him and never let him go.

"Come now." He said seeing her crestfallen face. "It is time to go."

He lifted her chin to kiss her, before picking up his case.

Wringing her hands, Mary watched him walk down the path, and then he was gone.

* * *

><p>Tom Branson got off the boat at Liverpool. He pulled his cap down over his eyes and hitched the meagre pack onto his shoulder. Their things, such as they were, had been stored safely; he now carried only enough for the trip to Yorkshire.<p>

Sybil would understand, there was nothing to be gained by his being picked up by the RUC and reluctantly he realised that should he try to see her or even make his presence known, then that would be exactly what would happen.

His first instinct had been to go to Dublin, seek out his family and contacts, but even they would be unable to fight the face of authority in the north, and it would be the first place anyone would look. So with a heavy heart he had decided to make the crossing to the mainland. For all his talk of equality, he realised that if he wanted to save his wife, then her family may be the only ones with the power to do it. He hitched the pack again and moved on his way.

* * *

><p>Thomas put the last of Mr Lansdowne's belongings in his trunk. A small bag had been packed for the gentleman to take with him. The rest was to be packed up until his return.<p>

The footman cum valet started as the gentleman in question stepped through the door.

"Everything in order Thomas?" He asked.

"Of course Sir. Was there to be anything else?"

"No, I don't think so. You have been a tremendous and discreet help, and I thank you."

Thomas looked thoughtful. "There is one thing Sir, if I may be so bold?"

James looked questioningly. "Spit it out then?"

"It's not really something I feel I pass on, but with Mr Crawley being such a great friend of yours…" He looked hopeful.

"Crawley, what about Crawley. If you have something you feel I should know Thomas. I am sure you would not be speaking out of turn."

"Well…" he began.

"I will of course make it worth your while." James added, taking some notes from his pocket.

This seemed to sway the footman. "It's just with Mr Crawley going away… I had heard that Lady Mary had taken a lover."

* * *

><p>Cecily Carlisle spread out the pamphlets on the dining table. Richard had indeed left for London; she wondered which one of his women he was seeing this time. She forced herself to shake the thoughts away. It would not do the dwell. Richard's problem stemmed from a traumatic event. She searched through the papers until she found the one she was looking for. There were many works by different neurologists and psychologists but Sigmund Freud was her favourite of all. Everything he said made so much sense. He wrote of people who repressed their sexuality to such an extent, it was almost an illness. Wasn't there a woman in love with her brother-in-law who denied it to such an extent it made her lame? This was how she viewed Richard. He was unwell and deserved her sympathy and compassion, not her censure. Lady Mary Carlisle was the key. Since the day he had brought hid former fiancé to Haxby by force, it had caused such a change in the man. Cecily was certain that if she could recreate the event, albeit under controlled conditions, then her husband would face up to what had happened. Finally he would be free of the spectre that haunted him and would once again be able to enter into a loving relationship.<p>

She knew Richard found her interest in psychoanalysis ridiculous. He did not hold with Freud's view on the human mind, in fact he had gone so far as to call the man a quack. It was also his opinion that anyone attempting to follow his teachings would inevitably take hold of the completely wrong end of the stick. It was true, his theories were complicated, but Cecily could not help but draw comparisons to her own situation. If Richard would not seek treatment then she was afraid an intervention would have to be called for. If he would not admit his illness, then a cure would have to be forced upon him. She had become quite evangelical on this point, almost to it becoming her own obsession.

So engrossed was she that raised voices outside the room took some time to filter into her consciousness. It was with some surprise that she heard the butler talking quite sternly to someone in the hall. She rounded the corner to find him arguing with a severe looking woman dressed, Cecily could only assume, as a Nanny.

"Is there a problem?" She asked.

The two stopped their animated discussion and stared at her. The visitor opened her mouth in surprise before closing it again in a tight line.

"I am trying to explain to this _person_ my lady that Sir Richard is not at home. I was also explaining that she really should have used the servant's entrance." He said with a snide glance at Stevens.

"Aren't you the Nanny for the Crawley children?" Cecily asked. "What on earth could you want with my husband?"

The woman stepped forwards, her face an agony of indecision. "Well, you see I have some information for him, very important information."

"Why would you be supplying Sir Richard with gossip from the Crawley house?" She asked, an edge to her voice. She wished she could be more surprised that her husband would be paying someone inside Lady Mary's home. If anything it reinforced her belief that the woman was the key to everything.

Stevens looked uncertain. It had been a mistake to come here, she could see that now. In her enthusiasm for what she had discovered, there had been little thought. It simply had not occurred to her that Richard might be out and she would be confronted with a suspicious wife.

"I think you had better come in." Cecily said calmly, indicating the drawing room.

As the door was closed behind them, Lady Carlisle rounded on the Nanny. "If you are at this moment planning some elaborate deception, I will warn you, I have been in the business of lies ever since I could hold a pencil."

Stevens nodded.

"Now, I suggest you tell me what you were planning to tell my husband."


	19. Twists and Turns

**A/N Things are starting to hot up, although I suspect this may be a gentle descent into the turmoil. I think nothing more than a small embroidered cushion will be required, possibly with the picture of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn or a couple of urchins tumbling in the street. All very cute and comforting.**

**Thank you to everyone who is still supporting this story. Your reviews, favourites and any feedback has been more than welcome so thank you so much.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>"I just think it is very sad." Mrs Hughes said.<p>

Charles Carson looked up from his teacup. "We still don't know the whole story."

"What more is there to know? You heard Mr Moseley, they were going at it hammer and tongs, and then the next thing you know he is gone." She shook her head.

"To the aid of Lady Sybil." Carson added pointedly.

"Still it's all very convenient. I had such high hopes for them. I know you think the sun shines from Lady Mary, and you know my views, but Mr Matthew was such a tempering influence on her. She had become quite the lady."

"We don't know that anything is amiss." The butler said.

"But we don't know it isn't. Anna said there were steps being taken to remove the girl."

"Albeit that she was at great pains to stress Mr Matthew's innocence?"

Mrs Hughes looked sceptical. "Now Lady Mary wouldn't be doing that if there was nothing in it."

Carson shook his head. "I don't know. I never thought he would break her heart again."

"Not so many years ago, I wouldn't have said she had a heart to break… but I agree. It is very sad."

* * *

><p>Belfast was grey. It had been nearly a week and still Matthew had been unable to see Sybil for more than a short interview at a time. She looked tired and older. Her hair was now bobbed in the new style and she no longer wore the finery of Downton. He felt saddened to see her looking so jaded. The wheels of bureaucracy moved slowly. James was doing everything he could to arrange negotiations through the foreign office, but the RUC seemed determined to make an example of her, or at least they were certain she knew the whereabouts of her husband.<p>

There had been little comfort he could give, although the news of her son had been welcome. He had retold the story of Lily-beth and her hair, which instead of giving amusement had caused a tear in his sister in law's eye.

"They must be so big now. I am so sorry I have missed them growing." She'd sighed. "The time goes past so quickly."

"Well he is a Crawley through and through and you would be proud of him." He had said uncomfortably.

She had smiled then. So reminiscent of his wife that he felt his heart tug. Then the guards had arrived, and once again she was gone.

"I have to go out for a few hours." James had announced over breakfast.

Matthew had raised his eyebrows. "Something I can help with?" In truth he was feeling somewhat useless, it was not a situation he was accustomed to.

"No. I suggest you try and get in to Lady Sybil again today. I should be able to meet you for luncheon."

Matthew nodded. At least if he had been busy it would have made the loss of his family life more bearable. He wondered how Mary was coping at home. The temptation to telephone her was unbearable, he missed her so badly, but he felt he should at least have some good news before he called.

* * *

><p>Cecily Carlisle approached Crawley house with some trepidation. To be fair, the last time she had met with Lady Mary, the younger woman had been less than welcoming. She supposed it was understandable, what she was asking was more than a little unusual. Luckily Lady Carlisle did not have thin skin, and she was aided by bloody minded determination for her own ends. She rang the bell with more confidence than she felt.<p>

Moseley opened the door and regarded her with some surprise.

"Lady Carlisle to see Lady Mary Crawley." She said.

The butler had eyed her critically. "I will see if her ladyship is at home." He said quietly, before disappearing into the house.

Lady Mary had been feeling unwell, so his reluctance to disturb her had not been entirely unwarranted. He caught Anna in the kitchen and explained who was at the door. The blonde maid had shaken her head and that was enough for the butler.

"I am afraid her ladyship is unable to receive visitors at the moment." He said as he returned.

Cecily pursed her lips. "It is something of the utmost importance." She said, hoping to intimidate the man into allowing her entrance.

Moseley surprisingly showed no sign of relenting. "I am sorry, but her ladyship is unavailable. She is unwell." He was firm on the point.

Such utter immovability was irritating.

"Could you please ask Lady Mary to telephone me once she is feeling better?" She said tartly as she handed over her card.

"Of course Lady Carlisle." He said. Although as Cecily returned to her car she was less than convinced that the telephone was going to ring. She needed something to bargain with.

* * *

><p>James negotiated the streets of Belfast quickly. He didn't think Crawley would follow him, but you never could be too careful. The contact was waiting as expected.<p>

"You have it?" He asked unnecessarily.

The man nodded. Showing a manila folder secreted under his coat.

James held out his hand. The man looked away reluctantly.

"I am not prepared to negotiate and I am a man of my word. The file comes with me now, lady Sybil is released, then I will be able to complete the job."

"My instructions are that the work is done, and then the file will be sent to the appropriate authorities."

"What if I just take it?" James asked.

The man looked askance.

"Of course but that is not _the_ file is it?"

"This is the information you require. The targets are placed so that they are expecting a sympathiser from the mainland. You should be able to integrate yourself easily. Once you have the proof then we will be able to pull you out. Then and only then will we arrange for Lady Sybil to be released into her brother in law's custody. You do realise of course that this will only stand if she never again sets foot in Ireland?"

Reluctantly James nodded. He could imagine that neither Crawley nor Lady Sybil would be entirely comfortable with that.

"What of her husband?"

The man shook his head. "No sign. It's almost as though he has disappeared. We had a sighting of him leaving the city, after that he appears to have gone completely underground. Word is he may have left the country."

"He will be heading for Yorkshire. His son is there, that is what I would do."

"And leave his wife?"

James smile ruefully. "His wife has family and connection behind her. The north wants to remain part of the empire and as such her connections stand. They are just trying to prove a point, but no-one wants to see her hang. What they really want is Branson. Any idea who really set the device?"

There was a slight hesitation.

"Who set it?" James insisted.

"It's all in the file, but a small breakaway group called the Fenian men, trying to gain some momentum, there are only a handful of them. Of course when they saw the list of casualties we believe they may have panicked and reconsidered how they would be viewed. But we have people willing to testify that it was them. It was unlucky that one of the wives saw Lady Sybil and prejudices will out. It was the perfect scapegoat"

James nodded. "So to save the lady I must gain enough evidence to bring the real perpetrators to book?"

The contact nodded.

James sighed and held out his hand for the folder.

* * *

><p>The Dowager Countess of Grantham, her daughter in law and two granddaughters sat in the drawing room. Mary sipped delicately at her sherry.<p>

"Have you heard from Matthew?" Cora asked.

"No, not yet. I expect by the time he has found lodgings and contacted the authorities, it all takes time."

"I haven't heard from James either." Edith added. She knew it was slightly petulant, and now that she and Mary were on better terms it was really unnecessary, but when they were in the presence of their Mama, the sibling rivalry reared it's ugly head.

"Of course you haven't dear." Cora said dismissively.

Edith could not help but pout.

"They are probably both getting their bearings." Violet said diplomatically. "I should think the last thing either of them is thinking is that they should be checking in every five minutes." She turned to Mary. "Was everything… all right?"

"Perfectly." Mary replied. "Why on earth shouldn't it have been?"

Violet pursed her lips and regarded her eldest granddaughter carefully. "No reason dear, there is no need to be so savage, we are all on your side?"

Mary shook off the reproach. "You mean Granny, were there problems between Matthew and I because everyone believes he is sleeping with Smith, then no there were not."

"Matthew is sleeping with a maid?" Edith said in shock.

"Mary please! Not in front of your sister." Cora said.

"She is going to be married soon enough. Perhaps if she had not been so sheltered then it would have happened a good deal sooner. In fact if there had been a little less secrecy about everything a lot of mistakes might not have been made." She snapped taking another sip from her glass.

She looked up as the three of them stared at her in astonishment.

"It's the twenties, things are changing." She said by way of explanation. "So let me set the record straight. Everything is perfectly well between Matthew and I, in fact…" She paused in slight hesitation. Something that her grandmother seized on immediately.

"In fact what my dear?" There was a slight smile playing about the old lady's lips. She had seen the momentary glow in the young woman's eye.

Mary cast her eyes downwards.

"What is it Mary?" Cora asked.

"It's too early to tell really." Mary realised she had said too much, but their inferences had goaded her. The symptoms had started only days before, but it was a feeling she knew only two well. The slight dizziness if she stood up too quickly, an upset stomach in the morning when she rose, they were all too familiar.

Cora sat up, her eyes bright with expectation. "To early to tell… what?"

Mary sighed. "Matthew and I may well be expecting another child."


	20. Turns and Twists

**A/N Once again, I swear this site will give me a nervous twitch. Whatever the powers that be are doing, I wish they would wait until I have finished this story! Sorry, moan over.**

**Things continue apace. We have things coming out of the woodwork, and surprises in store. But nothing that will send you running for the panic room, at least I do hope not.**

**Again a million thanks to everyone who is supporting this story. Every little action is so gratefully received and I can only apologise for my tardiness in responding. I appear to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to just get things posted at the moment. So thank you for your patience and your support.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>Mary wished for the hundredth time she had not said anything about her suspicions. Of course, the moment she had mentioned even the possibility of her being pregnant, a great furore had broken loose. Papa had to be summoned, and despite her protests, she had been thrust into this whirlwind of excitement and enthusiasm. This was not how it should go. This was not how their last happy event had been announced. This is not what Matthew would want, for goodness sake he didn't even know yet!<p>

Last time it had been different. They had enjoyed a family Christmas together but during the festivities she had begun to feel more and more unwell. Anna of course had been the only one to witness her discomfort, from the rest of the family, even Matthew; she had managed to keep it hidden. Once the doctor had confirmed her suspicions, it was down to when she would finally tell her husband.

She had chosen the New Year's Day shoot. She wasn't sure why, but it had seemed appropriate. The year before was when she had finally begun to feel the chains binding her to Richard Carlisle fall away. And that was very much down to Matthew. Walking with her husband on the first drive she couldn't help but keep glancing at him. How much had changed over the year. She was married to the man she loved, and now they were going to be parents. She had not helped but wonder what sort of father he would make. As if she need have worried.

"What is it?" He'd said quietly to her as she stood by him at his peg waiting for the beaters.

"Whatever do you mean?" She had asked primly.

He'd smiled in a shy way. "I hope you don't mean to tease my inaccuracy."

She couldn't help but laugh. "No, I would say your accuracy was not in question."

He frowned in confusion as the birds flew from the trees, each one completing their flight in perfect safety. He sighed as he re loaded. "I don't get any better at this." He said ruefully.

"I would think as with anything, if you put in the trouble to practice, you cannot help but hit the mark." She chuckled.

He looked at her strangely. "Why do I get the feeling that we are not talking about birds?"

Mary had only smiled and looked away coyly, shielding her ear, as the next brace flew overhead, also in very little danger.

"What are you not telling me?" Matthew asked, his eyes slightly narrowed. He could always tell when she was being deliberately obtuse.

She waited until he was ready to fire again, his face now turned to the sky. "Well you really are going to have to put in some practice, otherwise how on earth are you going to teach your son?"

Matthew raised his twelve bore and unloaded both barrels at the retreating birds before the implications of her words finally sunk through his consciousness.

He turned very slowly to look at her.

"Or daughter, although I'm not sure Papa would allow his granddaughter out with a firearm." She spoke entirely conversationally, her eyes on the sky. "But times may well change."

Eventually she allowed him to catch her eye, a small smile playing about her lips.

He broke the barrels and hung the weapon across his arm as he approached her slowly.

"Are you telling me…?" he asked as he stood before her.

"You're going to be a father." She said, watching carefully for his reaction.

"But… how… no I don't mean that… really?" He was almost completely unable to construct a sentence.

"Really." She said smiling. "I have seen Clarkson and it is confirmed. Are you pleased?"

He still looked slightly shell-shocked. "Pleased? I am utterly delighted!" He burst, picking her up and hugging her tightly. Suddenly it was almost as if he realised what he had done.

Returning her gently to the ground, he placed a hand on her stomach. "Our first child… but are you sure you should be out here? Perhaps you should be back at the house, resting, it's cold, are you sure you're warm enough?"

His immediate concern was touching, but she certainly wasn't prepared to be mollycoddled. "I am perfectly fine." She said "so don't think you are going to be locking me up for the next eight months."

"Your bird Matthew!" Robert had shouted from the next peg. The earl looked across to see his daughter and son in law talking intimately, the shoot entirely forgotten. He smiled indulgently as he noticed their pose. It could have only meant one thing.

So Matthew would return to Downton this time the last to know. It wasn't right and Mary felt his absence even more sharply.

* * *

><p>Tom Branson watched the children playing from his hiding place in the wood. He had never seen the Crawley twins, but he was gratified to see his son accepted by them so readily. Somehow it made him feel more warmly towards his sister in law and her husband, it was clear the child had been introduced on an equal footing, not as an inferior cousin, the son of a former chauffeur. That had always been something that preyed on his mind. The little boy, Tom wracked his brains, George that was it, he ran ahead with the kite, while his own son held the strings. The little girl squealed in delight and clapped her hands as the makeshift device of cloth and wood soared into the sky, it's tails streaming behind it.<p>

The other boy ran back to stand beside his son. They really were both peas in a pod, clearly taking their respective mother's colouring. But it was to the little girl that Michael handed the string. She stood, biting her lip as Tom proudly watched him help her guide the kite further into the sky, his hands not leaving hers. There was a dangerous moment as it dipped, threatening to plummet towards the ground, but with Michael's assistance she was able to rescue it. She looked up to her cousin with something almost akin to awe.

Tom rubbed his hand over his face. Lack of sleep and filthy from the road he could not turn up at their door like this, it could not be how he was reintroduced to his son. He would be taken for nothing more than a vagrant and turned away.

Reluctantly he started to move. He missed his son, he missed his wife and he hoped to god she would understand why he had left.

Michael looked up, distracted by a movement in the woods. The lack of attention was enough and the kite finally returned to the ground.

Lily-beth pouted.

"My turn." George said gleefully, as he handed the kite to his sister.

Michael stared for a while into the woods, but whatever it was has gone.

"Michael?" George said.

The little Branson boy shrugged. "I think it was a deer." He said, before they resumed the game.

* * *

><p>Matthew too was finding his thoughts turned more and more to his family. The situation with Sybil seemed to have reached something of a stalemate, and now James was leaving to apparently visit some contacts.<p>

"I'll come with you." He said over breakfast. His friend's reaction had surprised him.

"No." It was said too quickly, before James recovered himself. "I'm just thinking you need to be around for Lady Sybil and these kinds of people are not disposed well to strangers." He took a sip from his coffee cup. His eyes averted.

"Surely you would be as much a stranger as I would be, you never know, I might even be able to help. I just feel so completely useless."

James shook his head. "Do you trust me?"

Matthew was taken aback by the question. "Of course I trust you."

"Then I would ask you to let me do things my way. If everything works out then your sister in law will be free to leave."

"And if things don't work out?"

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "They will."

"I would feel more comfortable if you actually told me what was really going on?"

Lansdowne shook his head.

"You know I am not going to rest until I find out… and I have time on my hands." Matthew said, his tone confirming this was not an idle threat.

Reluctantly James watched his friend. He seemed to come to a decision. "If I tell you, you must swear that you will never breathe a word of it to another living soul, and that includes Mary?"

He nodded. "You have my word."

"Have you heard of SIS?"

"Secret Intelligence Service? I wouldn't say I was hugely familiar with it, but then who is?" Matthew said.

"Well I suppose you could say I am."

* * *

><p>For her own part Cecily had kept the visit from Nanny Stevens to herself.<p>

She could not fail to notice that Richard was spending more and more time in the city. With a well timed gratuity in their driver's direction she was now perfectly aware of his destination in London. She waited patiently while the operator connected her call.

"Yes, I would like to speak to Sir Richard Carlisle please."

She waited patiently, tapping a red talon on the earpiece.

"Yes? Oh Lady Rosamund. Yes, I do realise it is something of an imposition, but please let us not play games. If you could just tell my husband to call me when he has concluded his… business… I would be most grateful."

She waited a long moment as the other party relayed the message.

"Ah Richard." She said eventually. "Never mind blustering at me… I think there is something you should know."


	21. The Home Front

**A/N Oh dear, there may be a little forshadowing of daring doo in this chapter. Sir Richard gets a rather interesting piece of information and someone is taken ill. It's all very upsetting. If you have ice cream, now is the time to break open the tub! (I know I have!)**

**Thank you to everyone for bearing with me whilst the site has tried to drive me even further around the twist than I already am. I do apologise for not responding as promptly as I would like, but I will get to it. I do so appreciate your support and comments.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>"But how?" Matthew asked, still astounded by his friend's admission.<p>

"After Edith refused me I went to India really just to get as much distance between us as possible. I expect I was being a little childish about it."

Matthew nodded, that was a feeling he could understand.

"While I was out there I met up with a few old school buddies and got recruited I suppose." James continued.

"You just fell in to being a spy?" Matthew said sceptically.

"Well not fell in as such, but it wasn't as difficult as you might think, and we don't use the word spy."

"I see. And does Edith know about this alter ego of yours?"

James had the good grace to look sheepish. "No, and I don't want her to. Truth is I don't really think I'm that cut out for it. It would put her in too much danger and I would be away for most of the time. That wouldn't be fair. So I spoke to the powers that be to get them to release me from my covenants."

"And?"

"And for one thing Edith nearly caught me which kind of says something about the kind of operative I am!" He said ruefully. "For another it seems gaining ones liberty is not as easy as you would think. So, I agreed to do this one last job, with the added bonus that it will help out Lady Sybil."

"In return they will allow you to return to a nice civilian position in the foreign office?"

"Exactly."

Matthew shook his head. "There must be another way? To actually go into the lion's den as it were?"

"They will pull me out once I have the information. Then we can all go home and life will return to normal."

"Have you ever done anything like this before?" Matthew asked.

James again looked a little uncomfortable. "Not_ exactly_ like this no…"

"It seems a hell of a risk. How will they know if you are in trouble?"

James shrugged. "It's just how it works."

A look of determination came into Matthew's eye. "I am coming with you."

His friend started. "No! You have Mary and the children to think of. It might turn out to be devilish dangerous."

"If I go back and have to face Mary and Edith without you or Sybil it's going to be a damned sight more dangerous trust me!"

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Two of us are less likely to get stuck than one, that's the way I see it. I won't take no for an answer. She is Mary's sister, Michael's mother and we need to get her out of there, if this is the way to do it quickly then it needs to be done."

* * *

><p>Richard Carlisle had barely stopped pacing since the conversation with his Cecily. He was not embarrassed, far from it. Of course Rosamund had been livid.<p>

It was an absurd situation really. He had been genuinely surprised when years after the debacle with Mary; he had been invited to the same event as Lady Rosamund and had received a surprisingly warm reception. The woman was lonely, of that there was no doubt, but she was also no fool. Her family, her brother and her mother the Dowager Countess, would never ever accept him back into the fold, and Rosamund cared too much for her standing in that circle. If he was practical, he would say that a distinct lack of male company following the war had been her main motivator, for his part there were enough mannerisms and familial resemblances to Mary for his attention to be drawn. So he had continued with his plans to marry Cecily, but he and Rosamund had grown to become unlikely friends. Despite what his wife may have thought, it was purely a platonic relationship and he supposed, possibly even because of that, he had unwittingly become fond of the woman. He found her company less irksome that his wife's, which is why he chose to spend most of his time in London at Eaton Square. Not to say that there were not other companions who provided for different needs.

But now he had been agitated. That Stevens should approach Cecily and involve her in his business had made him angry enough, but there would be time to deal with that later. Crawley and Lansdowne had travelled to Belfast, no doubt with the intent of obtaining Lady Sybil's release. That was interesting in itself, and he had already despatched a number of operatives in the country to investigate the story on behalf of the newspaper. It was not that which had sent him into this fit of activity. It was the rumour, and he had to concede it was nothing more than a rumour at best, but Stevens had overheard that Lady Mary had taken a lover. The name of the gentleman was unknown, but one of the servants had been overheard speaking to Lansdowne, and of course the Downton gossip mill had gone into overdrive. News had soon reached the kitchen and indeed nursery of Crawley house. It did not take much to put two and two together and assume that the valet was warning the gentleman concerned that he may be discovered.

Richard slapped a fist into his hand. So that was why James Lansdowne had been hanging around Downton. It had seemed unlikely that a man like him would be interested in a little thing like Lady Edith, so Mary had been his real prize, and right under Crawley's nose too. He had to find out more, but he couldn't do anything from here. There was something to be admired in Lansdowne's gall though, to go off to Ireland with his lover's husband, but then in his business a conscience would be a decided disadvantage.

Still, what was most interesting about this little snippet, should it prove to be true, then it could only mean one thing, Lady Mary was not happy in her marriage and that was very intriguing indeed.

* * *

><p>Mary had not been the only Lady in Crawley house to be feeling unwell. As the days wore on, Anna increasingly found herself becoming tired. She had long since been relieved of the more strenuous elements of her job, their remit now fell squarely on the shoulders of Smith, but still, the long hours and strains of the last few weeks were beginning to take their toll.. Anna was determined to continue until a new lady's maid had been found; however, John Bates was becoming increasingly concerned for her health and that of their child.<p>

"You really have got to stop." He said for the umpteenth time.

Anna smiled quietly. "You know I can't leave her now. With Mr Matthew being away and trying to find a new position for Sarah, not to mention with her Ladyship expecting again…"

"She is not the only one with a baby on the way or had you forgotten?" He said placing his hands either side of her shoulders and making her look at him.

"I haven't forgotten." She admonished, "But you understand that she needs me?"

"That's as may be, but you have to put yourself first, the baby needs you to take care of yourself." He looked into her eyes to emphasis the point. "You have our child to consider and you are overdoing things. I know you Anna Bates you will work yourself to death rather than feel you are letting Lady Mary down, but she must realise, you both must realise, it is becoming too much?"

"I am fine, really." She said giving him a small kiss on the lips.

But unfortunately she wasn't fine and not two days later she was helping Lady Mary dress when the world suddenly she gasped and grasped her stomach.

"Goodness Anna are you all right, you look as though you had seen a ghost!" Mary said as her maid wobbled. She took her arm and guided her towards the bed.

"I'm sorry my lady…" Anna began.

"Nonsense." Mary interrupted. "You are really quite unwell. I shall send for Dr Clarkson immediately."

"No…" Anna said getting to her feet, only to have the pain resume. She sat down again.

"You will stay where you are." Mary said firmly, as she rang the bell.

It was a few moments before Smith arrived, quite flustered at being summoned to her Ladyship's room after so long in exile downstairs.

"Could you ask Moseley to telephone for Mr Clarkson? Then run to Downton and fetch Mr Bates."

Smith took in the pale woman seated on the bed and the imposing figure of Lady Mary who was currently pouring Anna a glass of water.

"Well don't just stand there!" Mary snapped.

In a trice Smith was gone on her errand of mercy.

* * *

><p>"I'm afraid her blood pressure is really too high." Dr Clarkson said to Mary and Bates after he had examined the patient. "I would suggest complete bed rest for a day or two and then she will still need to takes things easy a good deal. I think the time may have come for her to be at home rather than work."<p>

"That's what I have been telling her Doctor Clarkson." Bates said. "She had been complaining of headaches. Will she be all right?"

The Doctor nodded sagely. "I believe if we can just get her to keep still then with luck her symptoms will lessen."

Mary nodded wringing her hands as the Doctor patted Bates on the shoulder and left.

"I had no idea she was even unwell." Mary said, more to herself than anyone else.

"She didn't want to let you down." Bates replied. It was not an accusation, more a statement of fact.

"Classic Anna." Mary said with a small smile. "If you speak to Moseley he will arrange for the car to take the both of you home and I am sure Papa will want you to take a few days to care for her… Is there anything else I can do?" Mary said almost distractedly.

"No my lady. Thank you." Bates said.

She nodded and made her way back into the bedroom while Lord Grantham's valet made his way downstairs.

Anna was lying on Lady Mary's bed; she moved to get up as her mistress entered.

"Stay where you are." Mary said, motioning her to lie down.

"I am most dreadfully sorry my lady." Anna said, although she did as she was told.

"Don't be silly, it is I who should be sorry for heaping so many of my own troubles on you. The car will take you home and then you are under strict orders to stay in bed and do as little as possible."

"My lady…"

"I won't hear of anything else. I dare say I can manage without you and it won't do me any harm at all." She said with a smile.

As Lady Mary watched the car pull away, she couldn't help but feel concerned for Anna, and also desperately sorry that she had not insisted the maid finish her duties earlier. She supposed she relied on her too heavily. She instinctively looked down at her own flat stomach and wondered how she would feel in Anna's position. She supposed she had been quite lucky, but it made her desperately long even more for Matthew to come home.


	22. Crossed Wires

**A/N Oh it's all getting to the meat and potato's now. There are plots amongst plots, all very complicated as the lives of our hero and heroine generally are. I would suggest you read this chapter whilst reclining, possibly with someone peeling you grapes, and another fanning you with a copy of the radio times (other television magazines are available.)**

**I apologise for not posting yesterday, but my muse went on the rampage in an antique shop wearing little more than a look a like Dowager Countess hat and a demented smile. It took some sorting out, so sorry.**

**Thank you again for all your lovely reviews and watches and messages. I do genuinely think you are all absolutely marvellous. Thank you.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>Yvette Stevens was surprised to receive the note to meet Sir Richard. She'd smiled when she read it, before folding the paper and placing it into the pocket of her apron.<p>

"From a young man?" Mrs Bird had asked conversationally.

Stevens assumed it must have been something in her face. She said nothing to either confirm or deny, just strode from the kitchen.

They met in the back room of a small inn in the next village. Richard was already seated at the table. She moved to kiss his cheek only have him shy away.

"There is no need to be like that Darling." She said sweetly.

"There is every need." He said standing and grabbing her wrist roughly.

"You are hurting me." She exclaimed.

"What were you thinking going to Haxby? That wasn't part of the arrangement. To then also tell Cecily the whole story!" he squeezed her arm harder. "What else did you tell her?"

Stevens pulled away. "I didn't tell her about us if that's what you were worried about, but perhaps I should have." She said defiantly.

"That… would have been very stupid." There was no doubting the warning in his words.

She rubbed her wrist, but said nothing.

Richard sat down again, his hands splayed on the table as if trying to regain control. "Tell me about Lady Mary." He said.

Yvette pouted. "That's all you ever want to know about, Lady Mary bloody Crawley."

Looking up his eyes blazed with a temper which he refused to release. "That was the purpose of putting you into that position." He said calmly indicating the seat opposite him.

Reluctantly Stevens sat down, still pointedly rubbing her arm. "You know already." She said petulantly.

"And now I want to hear it from you."

Stevens sighed. "The gossip is all over the servant's quarters. One of the hall boys overheard Thomas… that's the footman…"

"I know who Thomas is." Richard said through gritted teeth.

"Right, overheard him telling Lansdowne that Lady Mary had a lover."

Richard held the woman's gaze. "And who is this lover supposed to be?"

Stevens shrugged, "No-one seems to know. I have asked around but nobody knows, but it was strange Thomas was telling Lansdowne… as if he was warning him?" She leant forwards. "But then…. Lady Mary and Crawley had an almighty ding dong and the next day he was gone. You should have heard them, he was absolutely furious… slept in his dressing room too according to Moseley, he was moaning about having to make the bed up."

Richard nodded. So they were not sleeping together. He hated to admit it, but the thought had haunted him on occasion.

"The moment Crawley is out of the country, she is announcing to the family that she's pregnant."

Stevens finished.

"Is that it?" Richard asked.

"You have to admit it is suspicious? Why wait until he has gone away, then there is the arguing… you know you said there was nothing with him and the maid… I'm beginning to wonder. When I first arrived Thomas described the place as a den of iniquity, I wasn't sure what he meant at the time, but now I am beginning to see. They're all at it!"

"Hardly proof though is it? Have you ever seen Lady Mary and Lansdowne together? When was this impregnation supposed to have taken place? Has he ever been to the house while Mary is alone?"

Stevens' brow furrowed. "No one has ever mentioned him being there when Crawley is out? Perhaps they have a separate meeting place… the maid would be the person to ask, but…" Richard stopped; that infernal maid.

"Anna has gone. Lady Mary is being forced to rely on the girl, Smith, either that or god forbid she might have to dress herself!"

"The maid… the same one that was supposed to be sleeping with Crawley? Hmm that is interesting. I suggest you befriend her. She may prove to be quite useful to us."

* * *

><p>Matthew watched from behind a newspaper as James approached his contact. They had formulated a plan as such. James would meet the Fenian men, and Matthew would provide back up should it be required.<p>

"How are ya?" The man said guardedly, "Got a light?" He lifted a cigarette to his lips.

James took a box of matches from his pocket and handed them over. He waited while the man lit one, all the while his eyes on the Englishman.

"Thanks." He said handing the box back. With a nod towards it, he turned and walked away.

James lifted the box. Underneath had been secreted a small piece of paper with an address and a time about an hour from now. He assumed that they would be watching him to see what he did in the intervening time. Clearly they were not as amateur as HQ had suggested. Deliberately he walked in the opposite direction from the rendezvous point. Waiting until his friend was almost around the corner; Matthew folded his newspaper and set off in pursuit.

* * *

><p>In the garden of Crawley House, Lily-beth was seated on the grass playing with Miss Florence. The boys had run awayinto the little wilderness at the other end. She didn't mind too much, she had made Michael promise faithfully to come to her dolls tea party later. Reluctantly the invitation had also been extended to her brother.<p>

A shadow fell across her. Looking up the little girl squinted into a face she didn't recognise.

"Hello Elizabeth." The man said.

She got to her feet and looked up at him, before momentary shyness overcame her.

"I don't suppose your ma would be at home would she?"

The little girl furrowed her brow. The man sounded like Michael, which was very strange indeed, because she had never heard anyone sound like her cousin before.

"This is Miss Florence." She said holding out the doll as if she was exhibit A.

"And a hello to Miss Florence as well. Now what about your Ma?"

"She is in the drawing room having tea with Great Granny…" Lily-beth thought for a moment. "I am having tea later with Miss Florence and Michael and George… but George is silly and never plays properly." Suddenly it was as though she remembered her manners. "Would you like to come?"

Tom Branson grimaced. To face Lady Mary was one thing, but to deal with the Dowager Countess was entirely different.

"I don't think so. Perhaps I will come back later." He said, more to himself than anyone else.

From around the corner of the house, George and Michael raced towards them, so engrossed in their own shouting that they did not see Branson until they were nearly on top of him. They stopped suddenly. Michael's mouth fell open, before utter delight crossed his face.

"Pa!" he screamed, before launching himself at his father.

Tom picked the boy up in his arms and twirled him around. "Look how big you've gotten!" He said, "And heavy too! What have they been feeding you, iron bars?"

"Pa!" Michael said again, his arms around his father's neck. "Where's Ma, is she here?" The boy looked around hopefully.

"No, I'm afraid she's still at home son, but we'll all be together soon."

Tom felt rather than saw someone was observing them. He looked up to see Lady Mary standing at the window, her hands on her hips. She had obviously been alerted by the noise from the children. He would have no option now but to go inside.

Still with his son clinging to him, he made his way to the front door which was opened by Moseley before he even had to ring the bell.

The butler sniffed. "Lady Mary asked that I send you into the drawing room directly." He said before looking to the children. Her ladyship also asked that the three of you go to the nursery, even though it is Nanny's day off, you should be able to find something to amuse you in there."

"But…" Michael began, not wanting to let his father out of his sight.

"It's all right son. I need to have a grown up talk with your aunt Mary…"

"And great granny." Lily-beth supplied helpfully.

"And great granny," he said ruefully, "but I will not go without you."

"You promise?" Michael said.

"I promise."

Reluctantly the little boy allowed his cousins to pull him towards the nursery, with a lingering look over his shoulder; he began to climb the stairs.

"This way Mr Branson." Moseley said stiffly as he indicated the direction of the ladies.

* * *

><p>The house was Georgian, its lamp lit behind the crescent window. James looked up, but to all intents and purposes it seemed empty. He glanced to his left and right before ringing the doorbell. He had no idea what had happened to Crawley. To be fair he had tried not to lose his friend, but still keep a decent distance between the two of them. If the Fenian men were indeed watching him then he did not want them to see Matthew, but at the same time Matthew was his security.<p>

The door was opened a crack. In the gloom it was hard to make out who was inside.

"You the Englishman?" A voice hissed.

"That would be me." James said in his best Etonian voice. "I say, are you going to let me in?"

Reluctantly the door opened and he stepped into the gloom. Matthew had been standing some way away shielded by one of the buildings, he had seen his friend enter the house, and now all he could do was wait, it was not a comfortable situation.

* * *

><p>Branson was also experiencing discomfort. He twisted his cap in his hands as he felt the disapproving gaze of the two Crawley women.<p>

"How fortunate that you were able to make good your escape _Mr_ Branson, whilst my granddaughter languishes in your country's prison." Violet said coolly.

Reading between the lines, Tom could hear the unspoken 'which is entirely your fault.'

"There was no sense in us both being taken. I came here to see what you could do to help." He said with as much defiance as he could muster. "I was hoping to see Matthew."

"My husband is in Ireland already." Mary said. "I was rather hoping you would have some news of him."

"But you were obviously in something of a hurry." Violet added acerbically.

"I didn't run away if that is what you are inferring." Branson said angrily.

"That isn't what Granny meant." Mary placated.

The Dowager Countess looked at her in surprise. "I rather think it was my dear." She said.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Now then… Tom… what is the news on Sybil?" She indicated the seat opposite her.

Stepping further into the room he sat and began to explain what had happened.

Violet pursed her lips once Branson had finished his story. "So you think they were just looking for an excuse to take the two of you into custody?"

"They haven't been happy ever since we entered the area. We were just about to leave, but the moment Sybil was spotted near that explosion they had every excuse they needed." He looked down at his shoes before facing them again. "I swear, if I'd have known this was going to happen I never would have taken her there. I may be a bit hot headed from time to time, but I would never knowingly put Sybil in danger."

"I believe you." Mary said, and she did.

"You must have some influence with the authorities?" Branson said hopefully.

"Granny has already spoken to all her contacts in Belfast."

"Really my dear you make me sound like Mata Hari." Violet said, obviously pleased by the image.

"Unfortunately to no avail. However, we are hoping for some news from Matthew any day. Of course you must stay here."

"Must he?" Violet exclaimed.

"Well I can't see Papa having him up at Downton and I doubt you want a house guest." Mary said tartly.

Violet moved to speak, before closing her mouth again.

"It is settled." Mary said finally.

As Nanny Stevens came back from her meeting, she was most surprised to see a strange gentleman heading towards the dining room dressed for dinner.


	23. Fearing the Worst

**A/N *Sits with sagged shoulders, large bags under her eyes and a haunted expression* **

**I can but apologise. For some reason I am having awful problems with the site at the moment. I am not sure if it is FF, my steam powered lap top or new internet connection, but I only seem to be able to get in occasionally, and then I have terrible trouble saving things, so apologies again. As most of you know, I do like to post a chapter every day, but I am being thwarted. I hope this has not been too much of a disappointment.**

**Anyway, on a lighter note. Please read this chapter from a safe distance. You may wish to press the down key with a kind of stick from behind the sofa... it's a bit tense.**

**Enjoy x**

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><p>"Don't move."<p>

Matthew froze as he felt the cold muzzle of a pistol close to his ear.

"What are ya doing?"

He took a deep breath. "I was waiting for a friend who was due to meet me on Clifton Street." He said as calmly as he could muster.

"This isn't Clifton Street." The voice said.

Matthew turned as carefully as he could to play act reading the street sign. "I must have been mistaken." He began, "I could have sworn this was the right place. No wonder he is running late. That is the problem when you are in a strange city." He laughed nervously. "I'll just be on my way then?"

The voice said nothing, but the pressure against his neck had disappeared. Matthew took a step forwards, just as the butt of the pistol caught him on the back of the neck. The world went black.

* * *

><p>Patience had never been a virtue Mary had even pretended to possess. She was irritated with Branson, but in some ways she respected his decision. Sometimes it was harder to ask for help, and to come to them had taken its own type of courage. She was done with waiting. The telephone call to the R.U.C. headquarters had taken an age to connect, before she was finally able to talk to someone in Ireland.<p>

"Yes, this is Lady Mary Crawley. My husband, Matthew Crawley, is dealing with a client in your custody, a lady Sybil Branson. I wonder if it might be possible to get a message to him?"

She seemed to wait an age as the clerk or whoever he was went to investigate further. They eventually came back on the line. It was as though the world had ceased to turn for Mary.

They were sorry, but Mister Crawley had not been to the station for several days now, he had been attending Lady Sybil daily, but that had stopped suddenly, and no they really did have no idea if he was likely to return soon.

She must have thanked the clerk, she certainly hung up the receiver, and apart from that she had no notion of what she did. The breath caught in her throat. Matthew would have seen Sybil if it were possible. He should have been contactable at the station. She should know where he was. All manner of terrors flew through her mind. He was in a strange land and now he had disappeared. This time there was not even the army looking for him.

She felt herself sink into a chair, someone was there, but she could not even tell who it was.

"Are you alright my lady?"

Mary tried to focus. Smith, that was the voice, the girl's face swam into view, a picture of concern.

"They do not know where Matthew is?" It was a question, as if the young maid could answer it. "He has been missing for a few days." Mary sat biting her lower lip.

Smith's hand flew to her own mouth. Suddenly she saw Mary for the desperately worried wife she was. In that moment she wondered how she could have ever doubted her ladyship's devotion to her husband.

"They would have contacted you if anything bad had happened." Smith said, she wasn't even sure where the words came from, but she did want to say something to try and help.

Lady Mary seemed to shake herself from her reverie. "Yes," She said briskly. "Of course they would." She even managed to favour the maid with a watery smile. "We must not fear the worst."

"No my lady." Smith said with a bob.

"And now." Mary clapped her hands together, "We must prepare for the flower show. One must make an appearance after all." She said with mock brightness.

Smith bobbed again and

It was only afterwards that Sarah Smith was able to wonder that for the first time her concerns had not been for Matthew Crawley, but actually for his wife.

* * *

><p>The annual village flower show was a major event. Mary arrived with her sister and Mama. The Dowager Countess would no doubt be making her entrance later.<p>

Mary was in something of two minds whether to tell Edith what she had learned. Just because Matthew had not been seen for a few days, it did not mean that James was similarly missing. She tried to wrack her brains as to what on earth could have happened to them.

"Have you heard anything?" She whispered to Edith, whilst simultaneously smiling at the contestants.

"No." Edith whispered back, equally putting on a brave face. "Have you?"

Mary sighed. "I spoke to the authorities…" She paused. "Edith." She put her hand on her sister's arm. The latter turned to face her. "They have not seen Matthew for a few days. They have no idea where he is."

The colour seemed to drain from the younger Crawley as the implication settled upon her.

"So you think they are both missing?" She said quietly.

"I don't know. I can't imagine that Matthew would just abandon Sybil. Something must have happened, but I have absolutely no idea how to find out what."

"Come along girls!" Cora trilled over her shoulder.

"Don't say anything to Mama or Papa just yet. Not until we know more." Mary said.

Edith nodded in agreement. So, putting on their best social faces, they followed their mother into the hall.

Wandering around the exhibits and making idle conversation with the entrants, Mary couldn't help but think back to when Matthew had been first at Downton. They had flirted terribly, it was probably about the time she really started to notice him. If she tried really hard, she could almost imagine turning around and his standing there with that slight bemused smile on his lips. Her stomach turned over with the thought that he was God knows where.

A flurry by the door caught her attention. She fully expected it to be Granny; she did so love to make her presence felt. It was with some surprise that she recognised Lady Carlisle. Her driver was manhandling a monstrous arrangement through the doors with Cecily attempting to direct his efforts. All eyes were on the lady. She had come dressed in a frightful bright sun dress and a hat which was only slightly dwarfed by her flowers.

"Coooeeey!" She called out. If was a few moments before Lady Mary was aware that this greeting was aimed squarely at her. It was now accompanied by a frantic waving of her hand.

"Oh Lord." Mary said aside to sister, whilst turning her head away.

"I don't think you can really ignore her." Edith said, forcing a smile in their neighbour's direction.

Cecily was directing the chauffeur to place her creation on one of the tables, much to the consternation of the other competitors. The lady herself made a bee line for Mary.

"What a wonderful surprise seeing you here." She gushed.

"Indeed." Mary said tightly. "Although I think you will find, most people entering the show arrive with their… displays… the night before."

Cecily looked around. "Do they really?" She said, as if such rules did not apply to her. She waved a hand. "And which one is yours?"

Edith stifled a snort with her hand. "Oh Mary doesn't do flower arranging." She said.

"No, indeed not." Mary added with a sharp glance at her sister.

Cecily's face fell in an exaggerated frown. "Oh what a terrible shame, I was hoping we could swap tips and secrets."

It was all Mary could do to stop herself rolling her eyes. Luckily, or not as the case may be, she was prevented from saying anything rude as the doors again opened, this time to reveal Sir Richard Carlisle. Lady Mary's eyes widened. She heard Edith's own gasp. Cecily turned to follow their gaze.

"Oh yes, dear Richard, he did insist on coming along to support me. I said to him, 'darling it will just be us girls' but he would have none of it."

He immediately strode towards them. "Lady Edith, Lady Mary." Richard said with a nod to each sister.

"Sir Richard." Mary said stiffly, "I am most surprised to see you here. I would certainly have never had you down as an aficionado of the rose or the dahlia?"

Richard smiled, it was almost reptilian. "I have many interests that would surprise you Lady Mary, as I suspect you do yourself?"

There was something in his tone that sent alarm bells ringing in her head.

"Well," She said politely, "I believe I must go and assist Mama."

"I will walk with you." Sir Richard said as he took her elbow. "It is really so long since I have seen Lady Grantham."

Unwilling to make a scene in front of the village, Mary allowed herself to be guided away.

"Really Richard." She said once they were out of earshot. She snatched back her arm."

"I see nothing unusual in two old friends catching up." He said charmingly.

"You know as well as I do that you and I are hardly friends. I warn you Richard… stay away from me and my family."

"You mean like Crawley is doing?"

Mary opened her mouth and closed it again. "What do you mean by that?" She said eventually.

"I'm just commenting that he does not seem to be around." Richard smiled.

"He is away on business." She snapped.

The older man chuckled and rubbed his chin. "Oh business is it? Yes, I believe I have used that one myself."

"What are you insinuating!"

"I know Mary."

For a moment she wondered if he knew about Matthew's disappearance, how could he, she had only just found out herself.

"I know about the baby… about all of it."

Mary's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure my personal information is any of your business, but then that has never troubled you in the past. So I am with child, so what, millions of women do it all the time, it is called the advancement of the human race."

"But not all women have another man's bastard."

Mary gaped in complete shock that he should say such a thing…to her face, such a wicked, wicked lie.

She pulled herself up to her full height and stared him in the eye. "How… dare… you!" She hissed.

"How dare I? I know all kinds of things about your life with Crawley, not exactly the bed of roses that you thought it was going to be is it. And now he has run out on you, though who could blame him really. A leopard really never does change its spots…"

"You evil…" She raised her hand to strike him, but he caught her wrist, not hard, but enough to protect himself.

"Now, now…" he said.

"I don't know where you've gotten your information, but this child is Matthews, and only Matthews. Don't even think that you are going to say anything different."

"Then where is he then? I would have thought he would be at his pregnant wife's side?" Richard smiled. "And gentleman callers at the house… tut, tut, Mary, you are getting careless."

Mary was genuinely speechless. With a nod Sir Richard turned and strode back towards his wife.


	24. Bluff and Double Bluff

**A/N Apologies to all. I am afraid my muse and I had somewhat thrown our respective teddies out of the pram. I am not sure if I am the only one having trouble with the site, but it has been driving me to distraction, so much so that it wasn't so much fun as a chore. The writing is still fun, just getting it up here! I have put in a mail to the administrators, but nothing back yet. So, I have fortified myself and going to give it another go. I am going to get this story finished if it kills me!**

**Thank you to everyone who has been so patient. I appreciate it is frustrating and you like to read a new chapter every day, but there is only so much one little elf can take.**

**Thank you again for all the support, and I will endeavour to stop moaning and get on with it!**

**This chapter tensions are running high. I am aware that our hero was in something of a predicament, sorry, but there is fighting talk afoot!**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>There was pain in his head. As the world gradually swam back into focus Matthew tried to lift his hand to the injury, but found that they were tied firmly together behind him, the rope cutting into the skin around his wrists. He was lying on his side, his face pressed against a rough wooden floor.<p>

He tried to shake his head to dispel the last remaining grogginess. Where was he? There was a ball of fear in the pit of his stomach. He had been waiting for James, that was it, when he had been hit from behind. He tried to look around, but the room was in semi darkness, wherever he was, he seemed to be alone. Pulling his knees up, he tried to work himself into a sitting position, but his feet had also been bound. From somewhere behind him he could hear voices approaching. Closing his eyes, he pretended to still be unconscious.

"You must admit it was suspicious, he was following you." A Northern Irish accent exclaimed.

A door opened. He recognised the other voice as James.

"You didn't honestly think I would come here without any kind of back up did you?" His friend sounded outraged. "For God's sake man, how did I know you weren't an R.U.C. set up?"

"You thought _we_ were a set up?" The Irish voice sounded slightly cowed by the incensed English man.

"Well it did seem a bit fishy. A paramilitary operation that hasn't actually committed any guerrilla activity. I want to support the cause gentlemen, but my god, you are beginning to look more and more like either a bunch of rank amateurs or really inept spies. I think I should take my sponsorship elsewhere."

"Now, now… there is no need to be hasty. We are worthy of the money you are willing to put up."

James made a derisive noise as curtains were pulled back to let light in.

Matthew felt someone kneel behind him and begin to untie the ropes which bound his feet and hands.

"Carson!" James said, sharply smacking Matthew on the face.

He made a great play of opening his eyes and looking groggily at his friend.

"You fool Carson." James said, hiding well the relief that Matthew appeared to be unhurt. "I told you to watch the house and nothing more, not to get yourself trussed up like a bally chicken!"

"Sorry Sir." Matthew said, sitting up and rubbing his wrists. If he were Carson, who on earth was James? He slowly got to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. "Whose handiwork was this?" he asked the small nervous looking Fenian. The man was bald with a slightly red face.

"I'm sorry Mr Carson; it was young O'Leary… he gets a little carried away on occasion. You see we had a message…"

"Remind me to thank him." Matthew said ruefully. "What message?"

James paced the room, his arms waving wildly in fury. "Someone informed these people that there are some chaps working on behalf of the English government, Crawley and um..." he looked to the Irishman.

"Lansdowne."

"Lansdowne, Would you believe they actually thought it was us? I ask you. I can only assume that it was one of the rival factions hoping we would be sending our guineas their way if the Fenians rejected us."

"Who was the message from?" Matthew asked.

"Um well…." The man was wringing his hands now. "It was anonymous…"

"Anonymous and they actually pulled a weapon on me! On me? I came here voluntarily, and then they hit you and start threatening me with pop guns."

Matthew was sure it was to do with the bang on the head, but this seemed completely surreal.

"But that is all sorted out now?" he said carefully.

"Yes, because as I said to Mr Holmes there. If you think we're anything but on the level then we'll leave. I wasn't under the impression I was to do business with a bunch of idiots."

"What about the gun?" Matthew asked.

"Shoot us and what do they have? Two bodies to dispose of and no money from you know who. Did you leave the briefcase where I told you?"

Matthew tried to catch James' eye, what briefcase? He saw the barest shake of the head.

"No. The place was crawling with Garda so I put it… somewhere… else." He finished lamely.

"Probably the right decision Carson. This lot they would have probably led the R.U.C. straight to us. They are dangerous amateurs who don't have what it takes to make a real difference. Now if you don't mind Mr Holmes we will be on our way."

The small man moved from foot to foot. "No need to be hasty Mr Bates. We apologized for our zeal, but you must see that your colleague was mighty suspicious?"

"See? Why should I see that? Come Carson, we will speak to the republicans…"

Matthew moved to follow James out of the door.

"Now now, gentlemen let's not be hasty." Mr Holmes moved to stop them.

"Out of the way Holmes… until you have actually managed to pull off a decent job I think my funds would be better used elsewhere…"

"Well…" Holmes said. "There is one job that I could tell you about…"

James and Matthew exchanged a glance.

"We're listening." James said eventually.

* * *

><p>Tom Branson sat in the nursery. Michael sat by his side drawing, every so often he would look up at his father as he stared out of the window.<p>

"Shall we go for a walk up to the Abbey Pa? We can play hide and seek amongst the ruins and by the stables there is this really great tree. Lily-beth thinks I can't climb it, but I told her I could, you could help me."

Shaken from his reverie by his son's chatter, Tom looked down at the boy. "I can't really go outside at the moment." It was at the very forefront of his mind that he was technically a fugitive and if the authorities were looking for him, this would be a prime place to start.

"Uncle Matthew sometimes comes out with us, but he said we are not allowed to try climbing trees until we are big enough to reach the branches by ourselves." Michael said a little petulantly.

"Then Uncle Matthew is very wise." Tom said, his gaze going back out of the window.

"Uncle Matthew is brilliant. You know if anyone is in trouble they ask him to go and save them. That's what he is doing now; he has gone to help someone. I think he is probably the best uncle in the world, he is never cross, even when Lily-beth…" Michael tailed off, realising his role in this tale did not show him in the best light. "And sometimes we play cricket, Uncle Matthew taught us, and Grandpa, Uncle Matthew bowls very fast but me and George we can hit them ever so hard, Lily-beth can't but then she is a girl. Uncle Matthew…" Michael twittered on, each reference to the Crawley heir a sharp stab into Tom's own guilt and feelings of inadequacy.

"Do you think you could stop talking about Uncle Matthew for just a minute." He said, a little sharper than he intended.

Michael responded by pushing his thumb firmly into his mouth. He returned quietly to his drawing.

* * *

><p>On his drive down to London Richard Carlisle was positively jovial. He congratulated himself on actually breaking through the ice like demeanour of Lady Mary. Rarely had he seen her so flustered. It all served to confirm what he already suspected. Stevens had told him there was a man staying at the house, an Irish man no less, and Crawley was in Ireland. The irony of the situation was not lost on the newspaper mogul. So Lady Mary was angry, it would not last. He finally had his revenge. She was in an unhappy marriage. He almost chuckled at the thought. He would have made her happy and no doubt she was aware of her mistake. It had been a rare stroke of luck that his spies in Belfast had found Lansdowne and Crawley. It had been a simple matter to put word about that they were investigating on behalf of the English authorities. He hoped it had not given them too much trouble. Now he did actually laugh out loud. That he may be the means of releasing Lady Mary from her tiresome husband seemed too delicious for words. She may be feigning anger now, but once she was aware of what he had done… for her… her anger would subside into a more appropriate gratitude. He smiled broadly as the scenery whizzed past the window.<p>

* * *

><p>Mary Crawley on the other hand was beside herself. Panic had given way to pure fury. How dare Richard Carlisle accuse her of taking a lover? From what she had heard from his wife, Richard was far from the faithful husband, he almost flaunted the fact in her face. And Matthew, he had gone off to Ireland without so much as a message back to let them know he had arrived. Yes, anger was better. It helped to cover the worry that had been gnawing at her insides ever since she realised he was missing. Lady Mary Crawley did not just sit around while men made snide innuendo and went missing willy nilly. Was she not the granddaughter of the Dowager Countess of Grantham? This was not to be borne. Making her decision she strode to the telephone.<p>

"Lady Carlisle? Yes this is Lady Mary Crawley. I have been thinking about your problem and the solutions you presented. I believe that there may be a way in which we can help each other."

She moved the earpiece away from her head as the other woman chattered excitedly.

"Quite so. Here is my proposal. You are in the same business as Richard I understand, so no doubt you have access to as many contacts as he?"

Cecily confirmed that indeed she did.

"In that case I will assist you in your… endeavours, but… and I warn you I will not be negotiating this… first I require you to utilise those contacts to locate my husband. Once I have spoken to him and am assured of his safety, then and only then I will be prepared to help you. Those are my terms… do you accept?"


	25. Taking the Initiative

**A/N I apologise my dear dear readers. I am afraid due to circumstances beyond my control I was forced to enter the real world. It's no fun out there I can tell you! But my muse and I are back and determined to resume our productivity. **

**I want to thank everyone who has been providing such impetus for me to get back into the literary saddle, especially Serena89 who has been such a massive supporter. Again I can only apologise for my tardiness, but I am back baby! **

**This may take a bit of getting back into, so you are probably going to want to catch up. I don't think it's too scary though.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>Lady Cecily Carlisle had been busy. She was a woman who once prompted into action, her ingenuity and resourcefulness knew no bounds. But her spies in Ireland were proving to be unhelpful. This she found frustrating beyond belief, mainly because she had a very good idea why.<p>

"Richard!" She trilled.

Closeted away in his study, Sir Richard grimaced. He buried his head in the report he had been reading.

The door opened. "Ah there you are Richard, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"I did." He said without even looking up.

She moved to stand behind him, her eyes trying to scan the papers on the desk. Deftly, her husband swept them into a pile and turned them over, but not before she had seen the word Belfast. He turned to face her.

"What can I do for you?" He asked with as much charm as he could muster. "I am terribly busy."

"What are you working on? Really Richard, you should try to grasp the concept of semi retirement."

He smiled humourlessly. "But my dear, that is what keeps you in this fine house with its _expensive_ things."

Cecily perched on the desk. "It wouldn't have anything to do with this terrible bombing in Belfast would it?"

Richard paused for just a moment, but his wife had been watching him carefully.

"That is old news Cecily." He said dismissively. "You know as well as I do that the public will be bored with it by now."

"Of course." She said cheerfully. "But surely with the Lady Sybil angle there are a few more lines we can get out of it?"

Richard's jaw tightened. "Was there something you wanted?"

"No." She said with excessive brightness. "I was just coming to tell you I will be joining you in the city this week. I have some shopping I need to do and there is that new show at the Apollo, I thought we could get tickets?"

With great effort he managed to keep the frustration out of his voice. "That would be nice Cecily. Although I am not sure how busy I am likely to be here. Perhaps you could go with one of your friends?"

"What a good idea, I wonder if Lady Rosamund would be free?"

Richard regarded his wife for a long moment. "Whatever you think will entertain you." he said eventually.

With a small sniff that her baiting had been to no effect, Cecily rose and made her way back towards the door. "Will you be joining me for dinner?" She asked.

"Of course my dear." He said jovially, "I just need to finish up here."

He heard the door close behind her and allowed himself a small smile. There was no doubt he would have to be careful. He was certain that it wouldn't take much to engineer the release of Lady Sybil. His contacts had unearthed a few people who would be willing to testify to her innocence, and this would be the final gesture that would bring Lady Mary to him. Her husband appeared to have disappeared from his radar at the moment, but Richard had no doubt he would soon locate the errant heir. The final wedge would be hammered home as Crawley discovered his wife's indiscretions, which Richard fully intended to facilitate. Such a man of honour would struggle with the shame, and possibly not return at all. There was the small matter of dismissing her lover, but given how things were going so in his favour, Richard did not imagine this to be too much of a problem. Abandoned and alone with a new baby on the way Lady Mary would be completely primed to come back to his protection, only this time she would not be offered his name or his home, but there was something more appealing in having her a grateful and willing mistress.

* * *

><p>As Matthew Crawley and James Lansdowne left the Georgian house, they each resisted the urge to look over their shoulders.<p>

"I cannot believe we got away with that." Matthew said from the corner of his mouth.

"We're not home and dry just yet." James replied.

They each tried to keep their pace at a measured level.

From the other side of the street a man was watching them carefully. Paidric O'Cleary had spent a good deal of time ingratiating himself into the very heart of the Fenian Men. A writer for whoever would pay the highest bounty, he now found this paying dividends with a very lucrative stipend from non other than Sir Richard Carlisle on the mainland. As the two Englishmen rounded the corner he hurried towards the Fenian Men's headquarters and let himself in.

"What were they doing here?" He asked a smug looking Holmes.

"O'Cleary, don't get me wrong, we are grateful for your support, but I don't think we need to tell you everything that we do. You have to remember you are not actually one of us."

Paidric waited patiently. He knew Holmes would be unable to resist.

"Actually," The small Irishman said eventually, "We have just come by some major sponsorship. Those gentlemen were decidedly sympathetic to our cause."

"I bet they were. Did you tell them about the explosion?"

Holmes sniffed. "That was unfortunate. But this time we will have the funds to do it properly!"

"You can have all the funds you like but if you are not willing to stand up and say 'It was us' then it will all be for nothing. I doubt those gentlemen will be willing to assist you in your campaign."

"There I think you will find you are wrong." Holmes was almost bursting with smugness.

The reporter rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. "Please tell me you haven't confessed the whole thing?"

"Confessed? That is an odd way to put it, but it was necessary to prove our commitment to the cause."

Paidric wondered for the hundredth time how these idiots had ever gotten the notion that they would be any good in politics. "The gentlemen you have just proved your commitment to…"

"Mr Carson and Mr Bates?"

"Mr Lansdowne and Mr Crawley." He waited a moment for the information to fully sink in. As the horror slowly crept across the Fenian's face O'Cleary continued.

"You have just confessed to being responsible to Lady Sybil Branson's brother in law."

* * *

><p>"I cannot stay here any longer." Tom said in frustration.<p>

"And what do you propose to do?" Mary asked calmly. She had no doubt that the waiting and wondering was having an equally frustrating effect on her brother in law, but now that she had her plan set the last thing she needed was him blundering back in.

"Just sitting here, doing nothing… how do you stand it?" He ran a hand through his hair.

"It may seem as though we are doing nothing, but believe me, there are forces at work."

"What forces, what does that even mean? This is why I never understood you people. It's all code, all who you know and underhanded dealings. Why can't you just send your high powered barrister over there and make them release her."

Mary envied his straightforward approach. "Because they are likely to dig their heels in and do anything they can to prove she did it."

"Michael and I are going home." He said doggedly. At this Mary did start.

"You are not taking the boy with you." She said.

"He is my son and he needs to be with his family."

"He is with his family." Mary said firmly.

"This is not his world." He swept an arm around expansively. "The cricket on a Sunday, crooking your finger when you drink your tea and that bloody nanny, she watches me as though I was about to make off with the family silver."

"Nanny Stevens?" Mary asked.

"Yes, every time I turn around she is looking at me. I know she's been asking the staff who I am and what I am doing here."

Mary was grateful she had instructed the staff to say nothing and she knew Ms Stevens was hardly popular with the rest of them.

"Listen to me Tom; this is the safest place for you to be, for you and Michael. Sybil charged me to take care of the boy and that is exactly what I intend to do. You have to trust me that everything will be all right."

* * *

><p>Yvette Stevens had indeed been busy, but it was not Tom who was the main object of her interest. She caught up with Smith in the garden.<p>

"How are you getting on…? Sarah." The Nanny began. "Now that Anna has left you to it?"

Sarah started. Stevens had shown no interest in her before; in fact she had been decidedly standoffish. This sudden amiability was wildly out of character. If she was honest, Sarah didn't like Nanny Stevens one bit.

"It's all right…" Sarah said.

"She's a right one… that Lady Mary…" Stevens said conspiratorially.

"What… what do you mean?"

Stevens looked around to ensure they would not be overheard. "Moving the Irish chap in the minute Mr Crawley is away…" She raised an eyebrow.

"Moving him in?" Sarah said confused.

"And saying he was the Irish brat's father… I suppose she had to say something."

"But he is Michael's father." Sarah said.

"Don't you think it's a bit strange? The mother in prison and apparently the father turns up here. I know you're no fan of her ladyship… She hasn't exactly been good to you has she, I heard they were shipping you off who knows where?"

"Mr Crawley will be finding me a new position when he comes home." Sarah said almost primly.

"If he comes home you mean." Stevens scoffed. "I mean, let's face it, we all heard the ruckus the night before he left."

Sarah drew her slight frame up to its full height. "Mr Crawley will be coming home as soon as he has assisted Lady Mary's sister. I don't know why you imagine anything else to be going on."

"I suppose Lady Mary doesn't trust you the way she trusted Anna." Stevens said snippily.

"Anna was with her Ladyship for a very long time. It is only natural she should find adjusting to a new maid difficult."

"Especially a temporary one."

"The length of my stay doesn't come into it. Now if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to." Sarah said.

As she moved to leave Stevens placed a hand on her arm. "Don't think she will change her mind. You committed the cardinal sin with Mr Crawley…"

"I did no such thing!" Sarah said in horror, shaking off the woman's grasp. She only wished she could have controlled the flush which flew to her cheeks.

"But that's not what her Ladyship thinks is it?"

The maid's eyes betrayed her for just a moment. "Whatever anyone thinks, Mr Crawley is a gentleman."

She turned and strode back towards the house.

Stevens watched her go, her eyes narrowed.

* * *

><p>There were some advantages to separate bedrooms Cecily thought as she crept down the stairs towards Richard's study. It had seemed an age before he had finally gone to bed, but eventually she heard the house settle into the silence of the night. Creeping through the door she made her way towards the desk. Tentatively in the dark she turned on a lamp. She tried the top drawer; it was locked as she expected it to be. Glancing quickly over her shoulder she fumbled with the bundle of keys in her hand. How naive Richard imagined her to be. Every stick of furniture had been made or purchased to her specifications, did her husband really imagine she would not have the foresight to ensure an extra key was made. She turned the small key slowly and breathed a sigh of relief as the lock yielded almost silently. Sliding the draw on it's runners she began to flick through the papers within. There was the bundle that Richard had been reading earlier. With another furtive glance around she removed them carefully, ensuring she noted the way they had been bound. Within seconds she was reading through the first page, she gasped as she realised the full extent of her husband's illness.<p> 


	26. Revenge is a Dish best served Cold

**A/N Thank you all you lovely people for your support and infinate patience. I appreciate it so much. My muse and I love you, so Thank you Thank you Thank you.**

**There is indeed dastardliness afoot, dashed inconvenience and difficulties ahead, and it really isn't going to end well. You may find yourself wailing in sheer frustration that circumstances again get in the way of our hero and heroine's happiness. One thing we know for sure, life never does run smoothly. I really do suggest you have someone standing by to pat your shoulder and tell you everything will be all right.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>"We must have enough information by now." Matthew Crawley said to his friend. "The man confessed."<p>

"It is only his word against ours remember." James replied taking a sip from his coffee cup. They had returned to their lodgings. "What we really need is to get some hard evidence."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"We have to go back."

Matthew made a face. "Are you sure that is such a good idea, clearly _someone_ knows who we are, is it wise to push our luck?"

"Do we have any other choice?"

Matthew shook his head slowly. "I really should telephone Mary." He said.

"And tell her what exactly, you've been playing spy?"

Matthew smiled. "No, but I would like to speak to her. I shall go to the post office this afternoon. Do you have a message for Edith?"

James had the good grace to look slightly guilty. "Um… no… yes… I don't know, what does one say in these situations?"

"I am sure Mary will come up with something suitable, she will know what her sister will want to hear." Matthew said with a sly grin. "And then of course will say something completely different."

James raised his eyebrows.

"I'm joking; the ladies have a long history." Matthew said, taking a final drink from his own cup.

* * *

><p>Cecily waited until Richard was safely ensconced in his study before she lifted the telephone receiver. She would have preferred to visit Lady Mary in person, but there was no way it could be discreet. If Simpson their driver didn't report to Richard then the blasted Nanny would. The telephone was the only option.<p>

"Hello. I am visiting the city…" She said brightly. "I wondered if we might get together for the new play at the Apollo?"

"London?" Mary snapped. "Why on earth would we need to meet in London when we live barely five miles apart?"

"It is supposed to be most diverting." Cecily said, carrying on as though she was chatting with a chum, "apparently it is a tale of intrigue where even those _closest_ to home can not be trusted. It promises to be most enlightening…?"

There was a moment of silence from the other end while Mary considered what Lady Carlisle was saying. "So there is someone spying on me in my own home?" She said eventually, her voice betraying nothing but her thoughts immediately going to Sarah.

"I have been told the real villain is not someone you would suspect…" Cecily added, again with such brightness.

"My maid?" Mary asked.

"No… not as obvious as all that… you can't expect me to ruin the surprise otherwise what would be the point of seeing it." Cecily looked up just as Richard crossed the hall. "Just organising my theatre trip." She mouthed.

Mary's mind raced ahead. Mrs Bird? No, the woman had moved from Manchester to remain with her mistress and Matthew, Moseley? No, he had never shown any sign of disloyalty. Anna? Despite herself Mary had a second of doubt. But it was just that, a second. No it was not Anna. So that only left one person.

"Stevens?" She said into the receiver.

"Oh darling I think you may well have spoiled the entire plot!" Cecily gushed into the receiver whilst rolling her eyes theatrically at Richard. He smiled a thin smile before going on his way.

"I will meet you at Kings Cross station." Mary said before ending the call. She cast a furtive eye over her own shoulder. A spy in her home? But what on earth could there be worth knowing about her and her family? She had no doubt that Richard was behind it. Whatever Cecily had discovered, it would be worth a trip to London.

* * *

><p>Michael watched his father carefully as they walked along the lane. Even to a small boy, he could tell that they had ventured further than he ever would have with his cousins. Eventually the former chauffeur turned to look at him.<p>

"What?" Branson asked.

"Where are we going pa?" The little boy asked.

"We're going back to Ma, isn't that what you want, don't you want to see her?" Branson said cheerfully.

Michael seemed to study the road.

"Isn't that what you want?" Branson said again.

"Grandpa was going to take us to see the badgers this evening." Michael said quietly.

Branson felt a stab of something in his heart. Grandpa? This evening? His son was changing and he had no doubt it was the influence of this place. 'All the more reason to get him back to his own people.' He reasoned.

"Wouldn't you like to see Ma instead?"

It wasn't a fair question. Of course the boy wanted to see his mother. His tiny face looked up into that of his father, open and full of hope. Taking hold of his father's hand, he continued to walk down the lane.

"Mr Branson?"

Tom froze. He had been so engrossed in Michael he had failed to see another man walking along the road.

"Tom Branson… It is good to see you." John Bates held out his hand in greeting.

Tom released Michael and took the valet's gesture.

"I didn't know you were in the area." Bates said. "We were all very sorry to hear about Lady Sybil."

Branson nodded in agreement. "It's a nasty business."

"But, you must have faith. Believe me, I know what it's like to be on the wrong side of the law, but if anyone can help then it is going to be the Crawley's."

The valet had already taken note of the pack over the former chauffeurs shoulder, and the direction he and his son appeared to be heading.

"Are you excited about your trip this evening young Master Branson." John said brightly, addressing the boy. "I know his Lordship has been very much looking forward to it."

Before Branson could act, the child's face lit up. "Pa do you think that we could see Ma tomorrow after I've seen the badgers?"

The Irishman sighed as he felt Bates' gaze on him.

"Don't you judge me." He said aggressively.

The older man barely shrugged. "It's not in my nature Mr Branson."

"Run and see if you can find a four leafed clover, it will be a lucky charm for your ma." Tom said, pushing his son towards the roadside. Both men waited until he was out of earshot.

"It's this place; it's getting to him, getting to me… I should be there with her, we both should. I can't just sit here waiting…" he ended lamely.

"Sometimes waiting takes more courage and endurance than action. What will happen to the boy if you are discovered?" Bates asked.

"I will take him to my mother's, he will be safe there." Branson continued belligerently.

"Safer than here?"

Despite himself, Tom could see Sybil in his mind's eye. Her tears as she had said goodbye to her son, but the determined set of her jaw as she had known with absolute certainty that she was doing the right thing.

"He will be with his own people." He said, trying to shake off the image.

Bates sighed. "Do you really believe these are not his people? Do you think him to have been mistreated here? That he is in some way felt to be an inferior?"

Branson was forced to shake his head.

"A part of him is one of them, no matter how much your inner socialist may hate it." Bates said kindly.

Tom smiled as his eyes turned towards his son crouched on the ground. It was true. He looked the very image of his mother, he was an exact copy of Mary and Matthew's boy, and he was one of them as much as he was a Branson.

"Can you take him back to Crawley house?" Tom said quietly.

Bates raised an eyebrow. "What will you do?"

There was a wistfulness about Tom's expression. "There is only one thing that I have ever had the patience to wait for, and she is sitting in a Belfast cell believing me to have abandoned her. The time has come for me to go home." He said.

* * *

><p>James stood with his back to the Harland and Wolff shipyards. There were plenty of people around to allow for anonymity. His SIS contact sidled up to him.<p>

"Did you find what you were looking for?" He said whilst ostensively looking the other way.

"What you thought was entirely correct. We heard it straight from the horse's mouth." James replied.

The man nodded. "We?" He said with a slight frown.

"Lady Sybil's lawyer. But someone is rocking the boat. They already knew to look out for us."

He nodded his head again. "Seems at least one of you has made a very dangerous enemy. Our sources can trace the leak back to the mainland. You were lucky to get out of there."

"So do we have enough?" James asked, still looking the other way.

"Hard evidence would be better. Hearsay… especially from the brother-in-laws of the prisoner, are not going to be exactly concrete."

"But you said you had others willing to say that Lady Sybil was innocent?" James said.

"We do, but I doubt they would stand up under questioning. Even if be brought Holmes in, he could deny everything. But, it's too dangerous for you to go back in there. You have been compromised… and it was a bloody fool thing to take a civilian in there with you."

"We need to find that evidence." James said tartly.

"Not your problem now. I suggest you get the hell out of Ireland before someone takes exception to you and your friend poking around. We will arrange passage for the morning."

James glared at the foreign office lackey. "You're sending us home?" He asked incredulously.

"You're no good to us if everyone knows who you are. Orders from on high I'm afraid."

"We're not leaving without the Lady." James said stubbornly.

The man shrugged and turned away. "In that case, you'll be on your own." He said as he walked away.

* * *

><p>Matthew felt his stomach flip as he waited for the telephone to be connected. Mary. He could not deny how badly he wanted to hear her voice; it was almost a physical pain. The line seemed dead for an age.<p>

"Hello?"

"Moseley? It's Matthew Crawley. Could I speak to my wife?"

"Mr Crawley? Oh thank goodness, we were all quite worried about you. I am afraid though her Ladyship is not here."

Matthew felt his heart sink. "Is she up at the Abbey?" He asked hopefully, he could redial.

"No Sir, I am afraid her Ladyship has gone into London." Moseley's voice was full of apology, as if he was personally responsible for Mary's absence.

Matthew sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No matter Moseley. Could you please just tell Lady Mary that we are all right, we have a little some progress and I will call her again as soon as I can?"

"Of course Sir… and we do hope you will be home soon."

"So do I Moseley, so do I."

* * *

><p>Sir Richard breathed a sigh as the Cecily free house settled around him. By the time she returned from her jolly in London, he would be on his way. He smiled to himself, He knew it wasn't strictly necessary, some might even say it was an indulgence on his part, but nevertheless, he fully intended to enjoy his triumph in person. To the victor the spoils. He would take the ferry to Belfast, meet with the R.U.C. and make his deals, and then he would rub Matthew Crawley's nose in it. Revenge was indeed a dish best served cold.<p> 


	27. Ever Decreasing Circles

**A/N Oh dear, I really think this is one of those chapters which is going to cause nails to be bitten down to the quick... It is entirely your choice whether the nails you choose to nibble are yours or somebody elses... I do not recommend toenails.**

**Thank you to everyone one who has been so patient and has taken the trouble to review etc. I promise I will get to replying, but my priority is to keep my muse's nose to the grindstone at the moment. Please bear with me, normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>Lady Mary Crawley sat back in her seat, utterly speechless, as The Lady Carlisle looked on anxiously. They had taken a late afternoon tea at the Ritz, but even the sumptuous surroundings could not deflect from what Mary had just heard.<p>

"Are you all right?" Cecily asked, her hand covering her companions. This was enough to return her to the present.

"Of course." Mary said brightly, removing her hand from the unwelcome contact.

"I really had no idea how bad it was." Cecily apologised. The slight had not been lost on her.

Mary gave a short laugh. "The man dragged me off to his twisted Downtonesque mausoleum; I would have said it was self explanatory."

Cecily nodded, for once unsure what to say. "I feel perhaps that I have been a little foolish."

"I think we could say that was a masterful understatement. The man is clearly deranged!"

Cecily's face hardened. "He may well have been driven to it." She said coldly.

Mary watched her carefully. "You do actually love him don't you?"

"Very much." Lady Carlisle said with a twinge of sadness. She recovered herself. "But it seems that my hopes that he would come to have the same feelings for me have been completely in vain. I see that now."

Mary clenched her hands tightly together. She was worried. According to Lady Carlisle, Richard had allowed some of the most dangerous men in Ireland to believe that her husband and James Lansdowne were a threat to them. If anything happened to Matthew, she would ensure that he paid for it in the worst way possible.

"Do you know what information he holds on Sybil?" Mary said eventually.

"Only that he has contacts within the RUC and that he has people ready to testify to her innocence… powerful people. As you know, Richard works on a system of favours and intrigues. As far as I can gather, there are a number of, how shall we put it, incidents, which happened during the civil unrest, which some of those in prominence would rather did not go into print. Richard can ensure that, but the price may be Lady Sybil."

"But you do not know what those incidents were or the people concerned?"

Cecily shook her head. "I only saw a reference to it in the report. Richard is too clever to leave all of his information in the same place."

"You are certain that he does not suspect you know?"

This time it was Cecily's turn to laugh, it was hollow and bitter. "You know yourself Lady Mary, Richard does not believe a woman truly capable of any level of intrigue. No mater how we may have proved ourselves in the past, he still thinks that he will always win."

Mary pursed her lips. "Then it will be for us to prove him wrong."

The eldest Crawley looked up as a woman was bearing down on them.

"Mary! Darling! You should have told me you were in town!" Rosamund gushed as she kissed her niece on both cheeks. "We are doing things the continental way now… don't tell Mama!" She said with a huge smile.

She turned towards Mary's companion and her humour immediately left her. "Lady Carlisle?" She said, with a quick glance of incredulity towards Mary.

"Lady Rosamund." Cecily said with dislike apparent in equal measure.

"I am sorry, I did not realise I was disturbing you." Rosamund said, as she immediately sat down at the table and beckoned to the waiter. Once she had given her order, she looked from one woman to the other. "Is there something afoot?" She said eventually.

"Aunt Rosamund, this is hardly the…" Mary began.

"No, no…" Cecily interrupted. "I believe this is probably the exact time. You aunt may be the only one who can provide us with the insight that we need?"

Mary stared at her in confusion.

"Lady Rosamund has become rather well acquainted with my husband."

Both Crawley women took an intake of breath, but for entirely different reasons. Mary in surprise and Rosamund in outrage. The latter was the first to regain her composure.

"Sir Richard and I are friends… nothing more." She said.

"Rosamund!" Mary said indignantly.

"I swear to you my dear, there is absolutely nothing more than that, we are not lovers if that is what you both think." She looked imploringly at her niece, but when her attention was turned to her 'friends' wife, her visage was far more defiant.

"I believe you." Cecily said, holding her gaze.

"After everything that Richard has done to our family in one way or another… I find your choice of friends most peculiar…" Mary said.

"One cannot help whom one likes." Rosamund said sniffily." Richard can be very charming; you both know that first hand."

This was something both ladies had to concede.

"Well I think there is something about your charming friend that you should know." Mary said, before indicating to Cecily that she should share her information once again.

* * *

><p>For Matthew and James the prospect was far more daunting. They stared up at the innocent looking façade of the Fenian Men's headquarters from their hiding place.<p>

"This is completely insane." Matthew said again. "It will never work."

"It has to work," James said. "All we need is a diversion." He swallowed visibly.

"A diversion is one thing but…" Matthew said

James clapped his friend on the back with mock bravado. "I cause the diversion; you slip inside and find the evidence."

Matthew looked worried.

"You wanted to be a spy." James said, still looking at the front of the house with resignation. "It was never going to be scouting for boys."

"Would it not be better for me to cause the diversion?" Matthew said.

James laughed. "No old chap. You have Mary and the twins to think of, even in the current circumstances… It will be far safer with all of the swine out of the way to go inside… just try not to get caught."

Matthew frowned slightly, what circumstances? But he decided the job in hand was far more important. He held out his hand to his friend. "You too." He said as James accepted the handshake. "If I have to explain to Mary and Edith something happened to you and what events led to it I don't think it would be worth going home."

"I know what you mean." James agreed. They both once again turned to look at the house. The light was fading, which would aid their subterfuge. With a final nod James made his way across to the front of the house, ready to draw the residence out, while Matthew sidled towards the rarely used servant's entrance.

* * *

><p>In Crawley House Nanny Stevens was finding her inquiries were getting her no-where.<p>

"Where has Lady Mary gone?" She asked Smith.

"I really don't know Nanny Stevens. She had to go out for the evening." Sarah replied.

"And her gentleman friend in not here either?" Stevens raised an eyebrow in question.

Sarah faced the older woman. "You must be able to see that poor Michael is upset now that his father had gone away. Why do you insist of seeing evil where there is none?"

Nanny's scepticism turned to surprise. "You have certainly changed into quite the fan of her Ladyship? Not so long ago you looked at her as though she was from depths of hell sent to torture your paramour?"

Sarah did not know whether it was the embarrassment or what caused the anger to bubbly up in her.

"Why do you have to be so wicked? I did admire Mr Matthew; everyone knows that, even Lady Mary. I made a mistake and I am sorry for that. But it is people like you who's only pleasure in life is to make those around them miserable! Mr Matthew is a gentleman and Lady Mary loves him very much…"

"So much she is having someone else's child?" nanny smirked.

"You take that back!" Sarah could not help herself.

"Why? You don't even know what Lady Mary is really like." Yvette sneered. "I could tell you things that would shock you."

Sarah though back to the times she had sneaked around the house, listening at keyholes. Now it embarrassed her that she had done such a thing. She stared defiantly at the Nanny.

"I have it on very good authority that your precious Lady was not exactly pure when she entered into marriage with her husband. That he had to marry her to save her reputation."

The fact that her very own Richard had also been willing to take on that very role still grated on her nerves.

"That… that isn't true." Sarah said uncertainly.

"Oh but it is… you ask any of the servants up at the Abbey about Mr Pamuk!" The final word was thrown home with a flourish.

Smith's eyes opened wider. Pamuk… suddenly everything seemed to make sense, but not in the way Stevens had hoped. Yes Sarah was a little shocked, but to her mind this man must have played Alec d'Urberville to Lady Mary's Tess. It only further proved the goodness of Mr Matthew Crawley and underlined the gratitude and love that his wife must feel under her cool exterior.

"Mr Crawley and Lady Mary are fortunate in that they get along jolly well." Sarah said echoing her mistress' words, and she hoped in some ways her tone.

Stevens huffed derisively, but she was beginning to see that the maid was not going to become an ally.

"Now if you will excuse me, I want to use the time while my lady is away to complete some mending." With that the young maid turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>As the ferry pulled away from the quay, Tom Branson happened to glance upwards. The face on the upper deck seemed familiar. It was definitely not the sort of person who would ever use steerage; such a Tom had been forced to do. Shielding his eyes against the lights, he squinted upwards. There was no mistaking that harsh jaw line and haughty stance. The man standing above was most definitely Sir Richard Carlisle. Without looking downwards, the knight left the balcony. Tom began to feel a knot in the pit of his stomach. The actions of the man had been recounted to Sybil and himself when they attended Matthew and Mary's wedding. He had been shocked at to the extremes the man had gone to. Now he was on his way to Ireland, and Branson had no doubt that this sudden excursion was something to do with his wife and her family.<p>

* * *

><p>"I don't believe it!" Rosamund said again.<p>

"I am afraid I have seen it with my own eyes..." Cecily said.

"And indeed his character should have come as no surprise to you." Mary added spitefully.

Rosamund pursed her lips as if to hold in her emotions. After a few moments she gave the two woman a beautiful if false smile. "If indeed what you say, then he must be stopped."


	28. An Epiphany

**A/N Thank you everyone for your continued support. We are entering the final furlong where everything comes together. You may wish to have someone to hold your hand as you read this it is going to be a bit of a bumpy ride as we hurtle onwards.**

* * *

><p>Following Sir Richard Carlisle had not proved entirely easy. With a lack of money he watched in annoyance as the man got into a waiting motor car and drove away. It was only with some ingenuity and a large amount of cheek that Tom Branson managed to persuade one of the traders to take him into the city. With sheer luck, and slow moving traffic, he managed to keep the vehicle in sight until it finally stopped at one of the more exclusive hotels. Thanking his benefactor, Tom jumped down from the cart and made his way back in time to see Sir Richard alight and instruct a porter to deal with his luggage.<p>

Branson pulled his cap down over his eyes. It was unlikely that Carlisle would be looking for him, or would even recognise him. The man never did take any notice of the staff at Downton. Even so, it would not do to take any chances. If Richard Carlisle's visit had anything at all to do with Sybil, Tom intended to find out exactly what it was.

* * *

><p>It was going to be a relatively small explosive. That was what Matthew reasoned. He did not want to think where James had come to learn how to make such a thing. He had waited, concealed by the shadows as James approached the front of the Fenian Men's headquarters. With a quick glance up and down the street he bent down to set the device. Quickly, he retired to the other side of the street as Matthew instinctively covered his ears. If that was a small explosion Matthew would hate to be around a large one.<p>

His ears still ringing, he watched as the house's occupants spilled out into the street through the smoke. He saw James preparing to throw a flash towards them. The world was suddenly filled with bright light. Luckily Matthew had closed his eyes and turned his head, but still the light permeated his eyelids. There seemed to be a great deal of shouting as the men spotted James and took off after him.

Creeping towards the servant's entrance, Matthew pushed the door. With only a small amount of pressure he managed to pry it open and stepped into the darkened room. Without light he moved as silently as possible towards the upper layers of the house. There would not be much time and he needed to ensure that he found something concrete to save Sybil.

Stopping at the top of the back stairs he listened for any signs that anyone had remained behind. Here it was lit and he would have to be especially careful not to be compromised. He tried to remember the outlay of the house. James had told him that Holmes kept an office towards the rear. With a tentative glance around he headed in what he hoped was the right direction. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the clang of an approaching Fire tender. He would have to be quick.

* * *

><p>In the sitting room at Eaton place, Cecily Carlisle looked uncomfortable, although she was trying her very best not to show it. Lady Rosamund put down the telephone receiver and waited while the butler took the device away on a silver tray, coiling the lead behind him.<p>

"It appears Richard is not in Yorkshire." She said to her two guests.

Mary nodded. "I cannot say I am surprised." She turned to Cecily, "Clearly he is using your absence to take his trip to Ireland."

Cecily pursed her red lips and tried not to take the comment as a personal slight, it was quite difficult. "So what do you propose we do, follow him?"

Rosamund brightened considerably. "Oh a trip to Ireland would be divine. I would be so nice to get away from the humidity in the city."

Mary looked at her aunt with a mixture of distain and incredulity. "This is not an excuse for an outing." She snapped.

Rosamund pouted. "There is no reason why we shouldn't enjoy some of the scenery… once the work is done of course."

"We are not going to Ireland." Mary said firmly.

"Then how do you propose to save Matthew?" Rosamund asked.

Mary fixed her aunt with a steady gaze. "We are going to talk to Granny."

* * *

><p>Nanny Stevens crouched down in front of the sullen little boy. He glowered over his fingers, his thumb firmly stuck into his mouth.<p>

She reached out tentatively and patted his shoulder as though he would burn.

"It must be very difficult, with your… um father gone?" She said in what she hoped was a kindly tone.

Michael shrugged his shoulders.

Yvette was aware she was also being closely watched by the twins from the other side of the room.

"Michael does not want to talk about Uncle Tom." George said.

"I am talking to Michael." Nanny snapped. She could not help herself, children were just so frustrating. When she and Richard finally married she would make sure she had as little as possible to do with her own until they could hold a sensible conversation.

"Why don't you two go and see if Mrs Bird has made some biscuits today?"

"We aren't allowed biscuits after tea." Lily-beth said, it was obvious they had no intention of going anywhere.

Now they decide to abide by the rules. Nanny thought irritably. "Well why don't you go and see if Smith knows when Lady Mary will be home?" She tried.

"Mama will be home this evening… Mr Moseley said so this afternoon." George said doggedly.

"So you were listening at keyholes? I think you should both go to bed early for your punishment."

"We weren't listening; he told Lily-beth when she asked." George continued.

"I asked." Lily-beth reiterated.

Nanny looked up in frustration to see the twins staring at her. There was something eerie in their steady four year old gaze. She could tell they had no intention of leaving their cousin to her tender mercies.

"I just want to talk to Michael about his father." She decided as a last ditch effort to feign honesty. "We are all very worried that he has gone away. If Michael was able to tell us where he was going, perhaps your papa will be able to find him and bring him back?"

Michael's eyes seemed to light up at that prospect.

"Gome." He said through his thumb.

"What's that Michael?" Yvette said, resisting the urge to snatch his hand away from his face.

"Pa, gone gome…" he said again.

"He's gone home? Back to Ireland? Did he… did he say why he was going home?"

That things would have come to this; she was trying to coerce information out of a child.

Michael shook his head and looked down.

"It isn't going to help Mr Crawley find your Pa if you don't tell me Michael." She said, forcing the boy to look at her.

"He doesn't know!" George almost shouted. He didn't know what was really going on here, but there was something that told him this shouldn't be happening.

"There is no need to take that tone Master George." Stevens said automatically, her eyes scanning Master Branson's face. It soon became clear that his cousin was quite correct.

"Very well." She said releasing the boy. "Quickly, let's see which one of you can get ready for bed the quickest."

She wanted to see if she could catch Richard at the London office before he returned to Yorkshire.

* * *

><p>Things were not going entirely to plan for Sir Richard either. He had not expected an entirely warm welcome, but he seemed to be being stonewalled at every turn. No matter what he said, how he bullied or pushed, his presence in Ireland was causing some people to become very nervous, people who should instead have been showing their gratitude.<p>

He paced the hotel room in frustration. This was not how things were supposed to go. Did these people not realise the damage he could do, the difficulties he could cause them as their stories became public? It seemed that since the birth of the republic and the split in the country, they had forgotten who had helped them.

There was a knock on the door. The boy held out a note nervously. Reaching into his pocket, Richard deposited a coin in his hand before the messenger ran away.

It was a message from his contact with the Fenian Men, once again a refusal to meet with him. This was becoming infuriating. He crumpled the note and threw it across the room.

He let out a sharp breath. He would have no choice but to increase the pressure. In addition he had so far failed to locate Crawley and his friend. It made him furious when things did not go to plan and for the moment there seemed to be very little he could do. But that was not the way he operated. It was time to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

><p>The Dowager Countess of Grantham allowed herself a small smirk as she replaced the telephone receiver for the final time. Not for the first time she was impressed by her eldest granddaughters thinking. Downton Abbey would indeed be safe in her hands. She of course would never admit it, but her thinking had been all wrong in this. She had used the tried and tested method to get her own way, which of course mainly involved using any knowledge or contacts against her target. Mary on the other hand had realised that there was nothing more likely to turn someone into a prospective ally than having a mutual enemy. Sir Richard Carlisle's visit to Belfast had provided the perfect focal point. The important people already realised that Richard was a danger; he had used his aces too soon. He was more of a threat to their infant nation than an ex socialite aristocrat. All Violet needed to do was point this out to the wives and mothers of the relevant people. Simple.<p>

* * *

><p>Matthew searched through the papers on the desk. There were many, most of them were irrelevant, he thanked his years in law school for being able to read so quickly and pick out relevant information. Eventually he managed to pick out a file which looked to tell him exactly what he needed to know. There was a noise from outside of the building, clearly someone was returning. Stuffing the file into his shirt, he looked around quickly. Someone was coming…<p>

He listened as the running footfalls came closer. Extinguishing the light Matthew waited with only the glare of the moon to see by. The door opened. Without even pausing Matthew lashed out with a fist as the newcomer came into the room and crumpled to the floor. Without even pausing to check who had surprised him, Matthew ran from the room and out into the street.


	29. A Breakthrough

**A/N Apologies to all. I have no excuses, just occasionally reality rears it's ugly head and demands that I pay attention to it. I am generally much happier when engrossed in a story, but needs must. However, my muse and I are determined to get to the end of this epic if it kills one or the both of us.**

**There is much skullduggery afoot as you may expect. Apologies again if you have lost the train of the story, but I am sure you will get the jist. Things are coming to a head, poor Matthew is calm on the surface but bubbling underneath and it looks as though the two amateur spy's may have had a break through! **

**Enjoy x**

* * *

><p>The blood pounded wildly in Matthew Crawley's ears as he finally slowed. He shook out his fist where the knuckles throbbed from their connection with the intruders jaw. He hoped he had not been recognised. In some ways he was ashamed of himself. This was not a way for a gentleman to behave. On the other there was some element of adrenalin which he had never quite experienced before. Mary would never believe it.<p>

He rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. If he got out of this in one piece he was fairly certain that he would never want to leave Crawley House ever again. Feeling under his jacket he touched the papers he had stolen. Even in his haste they were proof enough of the Fenian Men's responsibility. Plans of the area, notes made in the margin, there could really be no doubt that Sybil had been framed.

Smoothing his hair, Matthew began to walk along the moonlit street. He wondered how James had faired and prayed fervently that he had managed to elude the Irishmen. Soon that would be apparent as he made his way towards the pre approved rendezvous point.

* * *

><p>Mary took off her hat and her coat as she entered the hallway of Crawley House. It had been a very trying day.<p>

"Good evening My Lady." Moseley said. "I trust your trip was worthwhile."

Mary managed a half smile.

"Mr Matthew telephoned My Lady?" Moseley said.

Mary's face immediately lit up. "Matthew? He telephoned here… well what did he say?"

"Just that he and Mr Lansdowne were well, they had made some progress and that he would contact you again as soon as he could."

She placed a gloved hand against her chest; she could feel the increased beat of her heart. "Did he say when he would call?" It was just typical that Matthew should decide to telephone finally the moment she had gone out.

"No my lady, but I think he was hopeful that he would be able to return very soon."

Mary nodded and turned towards the drawing room.

"My lady?"

Mary turned back towards the butler trying to conceal her frustration. "Yes Moseley."

"I thought you should be aware that Mr Branson is no longer with us?"

"What?" She said in surprise.

"He felt that the time had come to return to his homeland."

As she glanced involuntarily towards the stairs Moseley anticipated her question. "Master Branson however is still with us."

Mary sighed. It really was most vexing, why couldn't men just do as they were asked?

"Was that all?" She said crisply.

"The Dowager Countess of Grantham has been waiting for you in the drawing room."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Granny? Here?" What ever had possessed her Grandmother to break with habit and come calling of an evening without a dinner invitation? Mary supposed that in a few moments she would find out.

"You took your time." Violet said acerbically as Mary crossed the room.

"I'm sorry Granny, but I have travelled back from London and I did not expect you to be waiting for me." Mary replied.

"You did rather charge me with a mission my dear." Violet said. There was a glint in her eye which betrayed the fact this was not at all unwelcome. "Do you not wish to know how I fared?"

Mary took a seat opposite her grandmother.

"How did you fare Granny?" Mary asked indulgently.

"It worked like a charm." Violet chuckled. "It seems that Sir Richard has something of the knack for upsetting people. I have spoken to everyone I know, and believe me some of them are quite odious, but it is done. I hope you appreciate the sacrifices I have made?" She sniffed.

Mary smiled. "Of course Granny, but you cannot fail to concede that you are never happier than when you are at the heart of the action?"

The Dowager could not help but smile. "I just hope that whatever your husband is up to he manages it before Sir Richard breaks down the barriers I have carefully erected."

"He telephoned earlier. I am confident we will be able to buy him some more time. If only I could speak to him…" Mary said. She shook away her irritation. "Tom Branson has decided to return to Ireland."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "Really? Perhaps the man has some gumption after all?"

"Really Granny, there was no sense in him being incarcerated as well."

"Unless he was in fact responsible?"

Mary fixed her grandmother with a gaze. "You know that isn't the case."

"Well whatever the case actually is, I do hope his decision wasn't because of something _I _said?" The old lady said.

"What did you say to him?" Mary asked wearily.

Violet looked hurt. "No really my dear. I was being sincere."

* * *

><p>In the dark Tom Branson cursed as he rubbed his jaw. He had followed Sir Richard to this house. Once the knight had established it was empty he had continued on his way, but it was enough to peak the curiosity of a journalist. It had been a spur of the moment thing to slip up the back stairs. Whatever Richard was doing, it would have to wait for now, Tom wanted to know what was so important about a non descript Georgian house like so many others in the city. What he hadn't expected was for someone to fly at him in the dark. Worse still, he could have sworn it was Matthew Crawley. The light had not been good admittedly, but the glance he got of his attacker had looked very much like the Downton heir. What on earth would he be doing creeping around a house in the dark?<p>

Tom heard voices coming from the front of the house. He looked around for an escape route before he recognised one of the voices as belonging to Sir Richard Carlisle.

Quickly he slipped out of the door into the adjoining room, leaving it open just a crack.

"Really Sir Richard we are very grateful for your visit, however I think I did explain in my note that given the delicate situation at the moment it would not be prudent for me to be seen talking to the press." Holmes was saying.

"It looks like you have bigger problems at the moment." Richard said, sniffing the cordite in the air.

"Exactly, so if you will excuse me…"

Richard looked around. "I don't think so Mr… Holmes. You see, I know that you set the bomb."

"Which bomb was that?" The man said nervously.

"The one for which Lady Sybil Branson is currently languishing in RUC custody."

"You have no proof."

"My dear Holmes, I am in newspapers… I could have you hung drawn and quartered with what I know; the authorities will be the last of your problems."

Holmes swallowed visibly. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to admit, publicly, that a member of your group set the bomb acting completely independently. That you have just found out about it and you are a shocked as everyone else."

"You want me to sacrifice one of my own people?" Holmes said shocked.

Sir Richard put a hand on the man's shoulder. "For the greater good my dear chap… and of course I will see that your cause is suitable reimbursed."

* * *

><p>Matthew was grateful they had moved lodgings. If anyone put two and two together about this evening's events he didn't really want to be traceable. Smoothing his hair he stepped into the dingy foyer of the tiny guest house and up the stairs to the small room above. With some relief he saw James was waiting for him.<p>

"Did you get it?" He asked.

Matthew nodded and handed over the wedge of papers which James surveyed quickly.

"These will do very well. Did anyone see you?"

Matthew flexed his hand involuntarily. "I did run into someone in the house, but I don't think they saw me."

James gave a mirthless grin. "Came to blows old chap?"

Matthew half smiled. "Afraid so."

James clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll make an operative of you yet."

"I think I'll go back to being a rather dull country solicitor if you don't mind…"

"Well go to the RUC in the morning, they can't fail to release her once we show them this. Then home to blighty as soon as possible."

Matthew lay on the bed toying with the little stuffed dog. His thoughts were back in Crawley house. James looked up from the desk where he had been studying their ill gotten proof.

"Didn't you drag that thing half way around Flanders?" He asked.

"I did. Mary gave it to me." Matthew replied distantly. He seemed to shake himself back to his senses. "What did you mean about the circumstances with me and Mary?"

James seemed to freeze to the spot.

"Um… nothing, nothing at all." He spluttered eventually.

Swinging his feet to the floor, Matthew gave his friend a hard stare. "You know for a spy, you really are the most terrible liar."

"Operative." James said, turning back to the desk.

"If there is something I should know then I really think you should tell me."

Matthew's tone was so calm, it was almost disarming.

"I'm sure it's nothing." James said, clearly anxious to end the conversation as soon as possible.

"If it is nothing then there can be absolutely no harm in telling me can there?"

James had to admit his friend had a point.

"Forget I said anything." He tried.

"Lansdowne, if there is something I should know about my marriage then I suggest you stop beating about the bush and tell me." Matthew insisted. "Please."

James turned slowly and sighed. "One of the servants up at the Abbey… they seemed to be under the impression… I say, don't you want to wait until we're home free to hear this?"

Matthew shook his head.

With a shrug, James continued. "One of the servants seemed to be under the impression that lady Mary was taking her… amusement elsewhere."

He had fully expected his friend to fly into a rage, but Matthew just sat and blinked at him.

"You do understand what I am saying?" He asked. When he still didn't get a reaction he continued. "I assume it must be a shock… I know I was pretty surprised myself."

"You are telling me that one of the servants at Downton told you Mary had taken a lover?" Matthew got to his feet slowly. James mirrored the action.

"Don't shoot the messenger Crawley." He said, holding out his hands in front of him.

Matthew seemed to stare into space, his face completely devoid of all expression.

"And what was the basis of this accusation?" He asked.

"Gossip in the servant's quarters I believe, apparently it came from your own house."

Matthew nodded and turned away. "Do you think we will have enough to have Sybil released and to get us out of here?" he asked, completely changing the subject.

Lansdowne blinked at the sudden change in direction.

"Y..Yes." He said uncertainly.

"Good." Matthew resumed his place on the bed, his hands behind his head.

"Crawley, you seem to be taking this awfully calmly." James said eventually.

"Of course I am, it is utter rot."

James furrowed his brow. "What ever do you mean? My source has previously proved very reliable."

Matthew gave a short laugh. "I am guessing this source of information was acting as your valet at the time?"

"Yes, how on earth did you know?"

Matthew settled back and closed his eyes. "Let's just call it intuition."

For the hundredth time during this trip Matthew felt the claw of guilt that he had left Mary behind to deal with everything on the home front. First Smith, now this rumour. The sooner he could get back to Crawley house and sort out this mess the better.


	30. Please Release Me

**A/N Surprise! Yes I'm back. The new and improved Elf. After a few trials and tribulations of life and blowing up a laptop so basically hiding in a cave for a bit trying to coax my muse back from the edge, I have returned to continue this story. I would like to extend my sincere apologies for the delay.**

**For those of you who need a recap. Basically baldy Carlisle has been up to his old tricks, planting spies, trying to get Mary to run back into his arms by foul means and generally being an all round rotter. Matthew is still dashing and a hero, but this time is doing so in the emeral Isle with the aid of Edith's beau James. Sybil is in prison, Branson is on the run and Mary is pregnant. Hope that helps to bring you up to speed.**

**Now on with the story. You may want to approach with caution, I realise we are all out of practice. **

**Enjoy. xx**

* * *

><p>Sir Richard Carlisle rubbed his hands together and smiled as he looked around the grim interview room at RUC headquarters. Although unaccustomed to being kept waiting, he was feeling somewhat indulgent today. Holmes would play ball… let's face it there was nothing the man would not do if he thought it would bring funds into his tin pot organisation, and Richard had been benevolent enough to agree that the chosen scapegoat should have twelve hours head start before the authorities were informed. He mused the man probably wouldn't get very far.<p>

He clapped his hands together and walked up and down the small room. It was hardly surprising the state the country was in, he thought, if the authorities kept people waiting who had positive information. It really was beginning to irk him now, taking the shine off his mood, did these people not realise who he was? He cursed his mistake, he should have demanded that the most senior officer call on him at his hotel, and then he would have had the pleasure of keeping him waiting.

Finally the door opened and a dour faced officer stepped into the room reading from a manila file. At least he was reasonably senior, Richard thought.

"Ah Sir Richard Carlisle? Do take a seat." The officer said, barely glancing at the newspaper man but indicating one of the hard wooden chairs.

Prepared for once to be compliant Sir Richard sat and crossed his legs. The officer seated himself opposite, still engrossed in his file. Richard smoothed his trousers and waited with growing irritation.

"I am an exceptionally busy man." Richard said eventually.

The officer looked up from his file. "I am sure you are." His tone suggested it was not something he particularly cared about. "What can I do for you?"

Sir Richard stared incredulously. He had arrived at the front desk and announced he had vital information with regards to the case against Lady Sybil and the idiot clerk had clearly not even bothered to pass on the correct message.

"I have some information which will prove Lady Sybil Branson's innocence." Richard announced as he leant back in his chair.

The officer's face showed no reaction at all.

"Did you hear what I said?" Richard snapped.

"Yes Sir Richard, I did. It seems to be quite the day for it." The file was snapped shut.

"Excuse me?"

"The paperwork for Lady Sybil's release is already being processed. However just in case you have any new additional information I will send a clerk in to take your statement." He stood and turned to leave.

"But… what…" For once Richard was flustered. "Why has she been released?"

"I would have thought it enough that you would be happy the lady has been cleared Sir." He said coolly.

"I demand you tell me what is going on!" Richard fumed.

The RUC officer raised an eyebrow at his outburst, a vague smile played around the corners of his mouth. "The clerk will be with you shortly… _Sir_." He said and left the room closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>James Lansdowne had been somewhat walking on eggshells around his friend. For all intents and purposes Matthew Crawley had been behaving entirely normally, but the conversation from the previous evening kept coming back into James' mind. The absolutely certainty in the Downton Heir had caused him to doubt his source, and he now felt a tremendous sense of guilt that he had besmirched the good name of Lady Mary Crawley. There was an unpleasant lump in the pit of his stomach as they waited for Sybil's release. He would happily face the full might of any rebel uprising, but the idea of being confronted by an enraged Lady Crawley filled him with dread. His only hope was that Matthew would want to spare his wife the knowledge and at the same time save James from her completely justified wrath.<p>

* * *

><p>Currently that wrath was being felt by one of the residents of Crawley house. Yvette Stevens stood in front of her employer and felt the full weight of a furious Lady Mary staring coldly through her.<p>

"You asked for me my lady."

"Yes indeed Stevens. You are dismissed."

The nanny looked on in confusion as Lady Mary turned away. The aristocrat had picked up a newspaper and was perusing it absently.

"My lady?" Stevens said questioningly.

Lady Mary looked up, her eyebrows raised.

This was really impossible, Stevens thought, she obtusely summons me here and then immediately dismisses me as though I am nothing more than that brat's damned doll.

"Was I not clear Stevens? You are dismissed, your services are no longer required, and you should depart from Crawley house forthwith. You have been let go." Mary's tone was as if she was talking to someone very stupid.

"I… I don't understand my lady." Stevens stuttered. A million thoughts raced through her head. What would Richard say? He would be furious that she was no longer ensconced in the household. What could have possibly caused the woman to suddenly send her packing, there had been no reason she could think of, recently at least, which this over indulgent mother could have seen as an injury to her little ones. There had to be a mistake.

"You do not understand?" Mary smiled; there was a cruelty to it. "You come into my home under false pretences… you cannot deny that your references were completely fabricated? I am aware that you are not even actually a Nanny."

Stevens opened her mouth to speak.

"Please don't bother." Mary's voice could have blunted razor blades. "I should have realised with your complete incompetence at handling children. It would appear that as an investigative journalist you are also something of a disappointment."

Stevens folded her arms defiantly across her chest. "I was only doing my job; you would understand that if you had ever actually worked a day in your life."

Mary sighed. "Oh another little person who has an axe to grind." She said. "You people, you so desperately want to be us, and when you can't, you want to bring us down to your level."

"I don't want to be like you." Yvette snapped.

"You don't? Surely the life of a pampered butterfly would appeal? What was it Sir Richard always said? I would appreciate things more if I'd ever had to work for them… I paraphrase." Mary said with a deadpan expression.

"I don't know what Richard ever saw in you." Yvette snapped.

Mary's eyes opened a little wider, her mouth twisted into a slight smirk.

"Oh my," She said as she crossed the room. "I do believe that you have something of the infatuation for 'Richard'."

Stevens' scowled; she was not going to be goaded by this woman into saying something she would later regret. Mary on the other hand had years of past experience in tormenting her younger sister.

"Did you honestly think…?" Mary allowed herself a small laugh. "Sir Richard Carlisle would look twice at a lowly little creature like you?"

Yvette's face tightened as the eldest Crawley approached. "Richard wants to be one of us more than he wants anything in the world. That is why he wanted to marry me, which is why he has the Haxby Park and the army of servants… because he can. He is not going to give all that up for you. How naive can you be? You, who profess to be a journalist… if he left his wife the scandal would finish him in society."

* * *

><p>Yvette Stevens had been growing more and more frustrated. When she had finally managed to get a call through to the London office, it taken an age to be connected, finally the receiver was picked up. That Crawley woman would pay.<p>

"Richard, darling, you really must do something about that creature who answers the telephone, I have been waiting forever!|"

"I'm sure you have." Instead of Richard, Stevens was now listening in horror to the dulcet tones of the Lady Carlisle. "I gave instructions that all calls were to be patched through to my husband's office as usual; however my husband is not here. Would you, I wonder, be the same woman who visited my home?"

Yvette gaped at the receiver. Every fibre of her being screamed that she should hang up, but Lady Carlisle would just ask the operator to trace the call and the jig would be up.

"Hello." Cecily said calmly.

"Yes Lady Carlisle, I am still working for your husband." Stevens said eventually.

"For someone who addresses him as darling, you would think you could keep a better eye on where he is?" Cecily said icily. Just because she knew Richard to be unfaithful, it did not mean she was comfortable to have the strumpets rub her face in it.

"What do you want?" She said sharply.

Something in Stevens snapped. She was sick of these uppity women speaking to her as if she was worth nothing. She was tired of waiting around for Richard to make his arrangements. The time had come to stand up and be counted.

"You know that he is going to leave you. He only agreed to the marriage so he could gain control of your father's publications."

There was a moments silence at the other end of the telephone. "I do beg your pardon?" Cecily said slowly.

"Richard. He told me how you made a deal with him. You wouldn't have the shame of being an old dried up spinster and he would reduce his competition. It's sad really. All of daddy's money and the only way you can get a husband is to buy one."

Lady Carlisle laughed. "But I do have a husband dear."

"Richard wants to be with me. You may as well know the truth. He is going to divorce you and marry me."

This time to responding laugh was genuinely amused. "Is that what he told you?" Cecily said when she paused for breath. "Do you think I don't know about his silly dalliances? Oh my dear, for someone who deals in scandal and intrigue you really are the modicum of naivety. I was around before you had even left your mother's apron strings, and I will still be around when he has either shamed or paid you to go away… without a fuss. Richard has no intention of leaving me for you or for any of the others."

This time it was Yvette's turn to be silent. "O… others?" She stuttered.

"Surely you did not think you were the only one? Oh come along my dear, that is really stretching belief a little too far don't you think?" Cecily's tone was not unkind. "Why only the other day I contacted him at the home of Lady Rosamund… the aunt of Lady Mary Crawley? Never let it be said that Richard does not keep it in the family."

Stevens stifled a sob.

"Why on earth are you crying?" Cecily asked. "You must have known that the only woman who is really a threat to me is the very one that you were asked to spy on, and fortunately I know Lady Mary has no interest in my husband whatsoever."

"I… I'm not crying." Stevens managed.

"Good, because tears really won't change my decision."

"Decision?"

"Yes dear, you are no longer employed by this newspaper. I will ensure that you are provided with a reference on the proviso that you promise never to contact my husband ever again."

"What? No!"

"In that case you will not even get a position on one of the penny dailies. Now if you will excuse me."

Yvette Stevens, with the ignominy of being dismissed twice in one day simply stared at the receiver as the line went dead.


	31. Homecoming

**A/N Yay! For those of you who were worried. Sybil is okay dokay, being a tad difficult but let's face it, she's a Crawley. Richard is thwarted, which has now made him really really angry and Matthew and Mary are reunited aaaah. Break out the tissues. **

**To everyone who has borne with me during this epic and who is watching, following, favouriting and reviewing thank you so much. **

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>Tom Branson had waited until the coast was clear before sneaking out of the Fenian men's headquarters. He felt as if he was being torn in two. On the one hand every fibre of his being bristled with injustice. How could his fellow countryman sell a loyal soldier down the river for the sake of mere money. And here was Richard Carlisle, another titled Englishman as the puppet master adding to his homeland's woes.<p>

On the other hand, this was a man who had found the means to bring about the release of his beloved Sybil, and to be fair the bastards had been the ones who were going to let her hang for their crime. Whatever the case, he needed to locate Matthew and warn him what was going on.

Richard had been kept waiting long enough. It really was not to be borne. He had sat... albeit impatiently, and no-one had come. Plus apparently Sybil was being released. This did not fit in with his plans at all. How was he to hold a debt of gratitude and relief over the eldest Crawley sister when he was not the one who had engineered the release of the youngest?

He opened the door into the main reception and was greeted by the last thing he would have expected or wanted to see. There was Lady Sybil Branson. Tired and jaded, not in the finery he had last seen her, and unmistakeably older, but nevertheless it was she. However, it was not that particular point which had caused Richard the most outrage. She was leaning for support upon the arm of Matthew bloody Crawley!

Richard closed the door again before he could be observed. The blood rushed to his temples as his head felt as though it would explode. How could he have done it? Had he not had the man hunted by virtually every militia on this damned island? How could he have escaped, and more importantly, however had he managed the release of his sister in law.

Richard balled his fists, the sheer frustration made him want to rush out there and pound those fists into the face and body of his rival. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had to focus. Somehow he had once again been thwarted, however he knew something the Crawley heir did not. He knew about Mary's infidelity with Lansdowne, and he knew about the baby. Once again he breathed, his temper residing. He was not a patient man, but there were times when you had to wait before you struck.

* * *

><p>Sybil looked around in amazement as the docks came into view.<p>

"Where are we going Matthew?" She asked.

"Back to Downton." He replied with a small smile.

Sybil pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid that is not the case. Don't misunderstand me, I am extremely grateful for your assistance, but I am afraid my duty is to stay here. Tom is still missing and as soon as I am able I shall locate him."

"Impossible I'm afraid." James said as he looked out of the window.

"I do beg your pardon?" Sybil said, her eyes flashing.

James looked from Sybil to Matthew who bore an expression of extreme concern. "Did Crawley not tell you?"

Sybil turned to face her brother in law. "Matthew?" She asked.

He placed his hand gently over her own. "One of the conditions for your release was that you were to leave Ireland immediately."

Sybil pulled her hand away and straightened her skirts. "Absolutely impossible! Ireland is my home, it is where my husband and my son are located and there is absolutely nothing or nobody who will tell me I cannot live there."

"I am afraid that you have no choice old girl." James said.

"Of course I have a choice. I am married to an Irishman, I have the right to live with him in his home country."

"You don't when that same man is a person on interest in acts against the RUC. I am afraid you are coming to Downton with us." James continued.

"Sybil, you have to understand..." Matthew added.

"I do not have to understand anything! Is this Papa, has he put them up to this? I knew he hated the idea of Tom and I being together but to go to these lengths, it really is beyond belief."

"It is not Cousin Robert's doing." Matthew cajoled. "It really is for the very best Sybil, you must see that?"

"I am not going and you cannot make me." She said defiantly as she crossed her arms across her chest.

Meanwhile Tom Branson had found the lodging house formerly used by Matthew and James, only to be told that they had left only that very morning. The landlady believed them to have concluded their business and to be heading back to the mainland. Tom could not believe that Matthew Crawley would leave without Sybil. That could mean only one thing. With a determined set to his jaw he shouldered his pack and headed towards the docks. He just had to hope he would be in time.

Matthew Crawley was indeed thinking about leaving without Sybil at that very moment. The lady in question was flatly refusing to get out of the car.

"Sybil please be reasonable." He said running his hand through his hair.

"I am being quite reasonable. Your boat will be here shortly and you can return to Downton. If you will allow me, I will have the driver return me to the city so I can begin my search for Tom."

"You will be arrested in moments Lady Sybil, please, a lot of people have gone to a great deal of trouble for your release." James said as he and Matthew exchanged a look. "You cannot just expect to have the freedom of the city just because you choose to."

"Think of Mary and Edith... your Mama and Papa... what about little Michael." Matthew said. "At the very least I would have thought your son deserves to have his mother safe and well."

Sybil's resolve seemed to waiver slightly.

"I promise you Sybil, once you are safely back on the estate James and I will start our search for Branson." Matthew said seizing on the point.

"You promise?" She said looking up at him. All of a sudden she was that young girl who had run wild and attended the count in Rippon.

"I promise." Matthew said kindly.

With a slight sniff Sybil allowed herself to be helped from the car.

* * *

><p>They stood on the ferry gazing back into land.<p>

"This may be the last time I ever see this land." Sybil said sadly.

Despite her bravado, her time in custody had taken its toll on the young woman. Leaning on Matthew's arm, he was struck by how slight she seemed. "I'm glad you decided to come with us." He said with a smile. "Because I would have picked you up and carried you, kicking and screaming if necessary..."

Sybil looked up askance as if she could not decide if what he said was in jest. Before she could speak, from below came a shout.

Matthew froze. Surely the authorities would not have changed their mind so suddenly. They had barely had an opportunity to leave. His instinct was to move out of sight, hurry her further into to the boat, out of sight. To his chagrin Sybil stopped and stared.

"Come on Sybil." He said, resisting the urge to pull her away.

She raised a hand to shade her eyes and scanned the quay for who had called. A bedraggled figure stood on the quayside waving and jumping up and down. She squinted down at the man.

"Oh my God." She breathed.

"Sybil?" Matthew asked.

"It's Tom." She said as her face broke into an angelic smile. It was instantly replaced as concern hit her. "We have to wait, he has to come with us..." She took her cousin's hand in both of hers. "Please Matthew."

"Worry not fair lady." James said with a courtly bow. "Your wish is my command." With that he hurried towards the wheelhouse.

* * *

><p>Not since the war had the walls of Downton been abuzz as such and unseemly time of the morning. Still in nightgown Robert, Earl of Grantham had been raised from his bed by the ever vigilant Carson.<p>

"Are you sure?" The earl said, trying to keep his voice low.

"Quite sure. It was Mr Matthew. He said to inform us that Lady Sybil is once more on English soil and that they should be joining you for breakfast. I hope I did the right thing in informing you Sir?"

"Most definitely." Robert said nodding. "So he is bringing our fledging back to us. The heavens be praised."

"Indeed Sir. Should I inform those at Crawley and the Dower house Sir?"

Robert shook his head. "Let them sleep. Send a boy at first light to tell them they will all be breakfasting at the Abbey. Oh and send the car to Liverpool so it will be waiting for them." A warm smile broke across his face. "We will all be together again Carson. Today is a good day."

"It is indeed Sir."

* * *

><p>"She is going to wear a groove in that rug." Mrs Hughes observed wryly as Lady Mary once again made the journey from the sitting room to the front door.<p>

Mr Carson smiled indulgently. "It does your heart good to think that there is some hope for the two of them yet. Perhaps it is true, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"Or she is intent on getting to Mr Matthew before any one else has a chance to tell him the news?" The housekeeper said with a raised eyebrow.

Agitated and wringing her hands Mary made the return journey, only to be met by Edith.

"Anything?" The younger Crawley sister asked.

"Yes Edith they are outside, I just told them to go around the grounds again to keep us waiting..." Mary snapped. Seeing her sisters face at the slight, her demeanour softened.

"I'm just on edge. I can't imagine what could be taking them so long." She said by way of explanation.

Edith nodded. Suddenly she lifted her head, birdlike. "Was that the motor on the gravel?"

With a rush to two girls ran towards the front door. Indeed it was the car returned from Liverpool with it's precious cargo.

Mary felt the breath catch in her throat as she saw Matthew sitting in the front seat. As their eyes met a smile spread across her face, her eyes bright with delight. It was all going to be all right now. He was home. Her reverie was broken by the clamour of the twins. Unable to suppress their excitement they ran headlong towards the car, screaming Papa! As the door opened, he was engulfed in their affections.

Mary felt the arm of her father around her shoulders. She smiled up shyly into his face and was rewarded with a comforting squeeze.

"I have told everyone not to say anything until you've had a chance to speak to him." Robert said planting a small kiss on his daughter's temple.

"Even Granny?" Mary asked quietly.

"Especially Granny." He replied.

Never could it be said that Sir Richard Carlisle was a man who allowed the grass to grow under his feet. It was imperative that he be in England before his rival had a chance to return to Downton and the knight lose his advantage. To this end he chartered a DeHavilland moth from one of the many flying schools which were springing up around the country and, before Matthew Crawley was even half way across the Irish sea, those feet were back on English soil.


	32. Scandal

**A/N Oh my sainted aunt! If your collective knickers were not already in a twist this chapter is going to do it. You have been warned! **

**For all you lovely lovely people who have been so patient, thank you so much for sticking with it and for all your encouragement. I have missed you all, and I thank you for your continued support. Mwwwwaaaa!**

**Now get back behind that sofa...**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>With his children still clinging to him, Matthew made his way towards his wife and father in law.<p>

Mary inwardly cursed the propriety which meant her children could run into Matthew's arms when she could not. Robert extended his hand and Matthew shook it warmly.

"Most grateful to you my dear boy..." The earl enthused before excusing himself to attend to his youngest daughter.

"Did you bring us a present Papa?" Lily-beth asked, her arms both still clamped around her father's leg.

"You will have to wait and see." he said, crouching so he was at the twin's level. "Now if you remember your manners I think you had better go and say hello to Aunt Sybil and Uncle Tom don't you?"

As the children ran away Matthew rose slowly, his eyes never leaving Mary's. She held out her hands, her eyes shining and a smile on her lips. It reminded him of the night he asked her to be his wife. If it were possible, it seemed that she were even more beautiful. He took her hands and bent his head for a chaste kiss.

"You really have got to stop going missing every time I let you leave the country." Mary chastised as his lips left hers.

Her husband's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Well it had been so long I felt the need to try and contact you, but no-one seemed to know where you were." She said primly.

"Oh I am so sorry Mary, I didn't realise. I do hope you weren't too worried?" Matthew said.

"Oh pish." Mary lied with a smile, "of course not. What trouble could you possibly get into?" Perhaps later when she had fully recovered her senses she could confess how her heart had nearly broken with not knowing, how she had discovered Richard's plot and how it had been the hardest thing in the world to prevent herself from boarding the next boat to Ireland, but not now, not at this moment when he was finally here.

* * *

><p>Edith allowed James to kiss her cheek. She was still a little embarrassed, even with the main focus of the family's attention being on Sybil, something, for once, that she could be grateful for. She gazed up into his face and resisted the urge to pinch herself. This was really her fiancé.<p>

"Was it really terrible for her?" Edith asked in a hushed tone.

"It was pretty grim, but Lady Sybil bore it like a trooper. She has pluck." James responded proudly.

Edith could not help the familiar niggle when she heard such open praise of one of her sisters, however deserved it may be. She glanced downwards out of habit.

"Sybil is terribly strong." She said, the words leaving a slight bitter taste in her mouth.

James lifted her chin until she was looking directly into his eyes.

"All the Crawley women are terribly strong." he said. "They don't necessarily have to be in a tricky situation to prove it."

* * *

><p>Mary stood on tiptoe and kissed Matthew on the cheek. "There is something I have to tell you." She whispered in his ear.<p>

Matthew raised and eyebrow. "Now that does sound intriguing, what have you been up to now?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of tyres screeching on the gravel drive. The car was instantly recognisable as belonging to Haxby house. The driver leapt from the cab and opened the rear door to reveal Lady Cecily in a state of some agitation. She hurried towards Mary, completely oblivious to the rest of the family. In her hand she clutched a copy of the newspaper.

"Lady Mary, I want you to know that I had absolutely nothing to do with this." She said.

"With what?" Mary asked.

The reply was to hand over a copy of the early edition. On the front page a picture of the eldest Crawley daughter next to a grainy photograph of James Lansdowne.

The headlines screamed out at her. 'The Heiress and the Spy and now Baby makes Three.'

Mary stared at the paper with open mouth as the rest of the family gathered around. Matthew took the publication from Mary's unresisting hands and began to read.

"You really must believe me. I didn't even realise Richard was back in the country. It was only when I called the print room and was told that there had been a change to the lead story..." Cecily stifled a sob. "Only he could have superceded my instructions..."

"Matthew? What is it?" Robert asked.

"It is a story written by the former Nanny Yvette Stevens." the younger man replied, a slight catch in his throat. "It claims that Mary has for some time been having an extra marital affair with none other than Mr James Lansdowne."

Edith let out a small noise, her hand flew to her throat. "Mary!" She exclaimed.

"Edith don't be such a goose, of course it's all complete lies." Her elder sister snapped.

James caught Matthew's eye. "Honestly old chap... you can't believe..."

Matthew scrunched the paper in his fist. "It also says that Lady Mary is to have a child from the union." he said coolly as the rest of the family gasped in horror.

"Well the part about my having a child is true." Mary said. She caught her Mothers disapproving look. "What?" She said crossly. "It has been announced all over the national press, I hardly think Matthew is going to imagine he was the first to know."

She looked up into her husbands face, she noticed the clench of his jaw. Instantly she softened.

"I'm sorry my darling, I wanted to tell you properly..." She said.

Matthew simply turned on his heels and strode away. James moved to follow but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"This is for me to deal with James." She said simply before following swiftly in her husband's wake.

* * *

><p>Edith was staring at James incredulously, her lower lip quivering.<p>

"Edith... you can't believe..."

The rest of the family had discreetly withdrawn.

Years of playing second fiddle to Mary seemed to wash over Edith. She did not believe her sister had engaged in anything untoward with James, anyone only had to see how devoted she and Matthew were to each other, but the world... Edith stifled a sob. The world would believe for all eternity that she were second best. The world would see that James Lansdowne could not have the beautiful lady Mary and instead settled for the plain Jane that is her younger sister.

She blinked away angry tears. It didn't matter what she knew to be true. In society, every where she went people would look at her with pity.

"Edith, my darling please say something."

She took a deep breath and tried to look him in the eye. Hadn't he been acting oddly? She had felt that there was something he was not telling her. Perhaps there was an element of truth in it. The two most eligible sisters spoken for, he would be close to them by marrying the dud.

Wrenching at her finger she removed the engagement ring and held it out to him.

He gave a desperate hollow laugh. "Edith no! You can't mean that. It is all lies, you have to know that? This Stevens woman, or Carlisle, they are both deranged..."

"I will not be a consolation prize." Edith said haughtily.

"Consolation?" James said in confusion.

"The last Crawley sister standing." She said, brandishing the fist containing the ring in his direction.

"Now look here!" James said almost angrily, making her start a little.

"James..."

"Don't start with 'James'. I have never given you the slightest reason to believe I had anything other than a platonic friendship with your sisters. For god's sake, Mary scares me to death and Sybil is far too political for my tastes."

"Even so..."

"Even so nothing. I flatly refuse to take back that ring." He took hold of her arm.

"Where are we going?" She asked nervously.

"We are going to speak to a certain valet, and if that doesn't convince you then I don't know what will."

* * *

><p>He was standing with his back to her staring across the grounds when Mary eventually caught up with him. The newspaper still clenched in his fist.<p>

"Matthew Crawley, you know I hate it when you run away from me. It is incredibly rude, especially in my condition, expecting me to charge about the place after you."

As he turned his face seemed to be a mass of emotions, shock, outrage, anger, confusion. It was hard to tell which was the most prevalent.

"Don't be flip Mary." he said sharply.

Mary nodded, for once compliant. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, I was just about to tell you..." She said.

"But how Mary, that's what I don't understand. We are always so careful?"

She gave a wry smile. "We weren't so careful the night in the study." She said quietly.

"But that was only once."

This time she laughed. "That is all it takes my darling."

He was still an unreadable mask. Now it was starting to annoy her. "You don't honestly believe that rubbish about James?" She said folding her arms across her chest.

"No, of course not." He said absently.

"So the baby? Are you trying to tell me that you are not pleased?" She said dangerously.

"No." It was as though a spell had been broken. He crossed the distance between them and placed a hand on either shoulder. "Of course I am delighted about the baby." He said kissing her gently.

As he broke away he brandished the newspaper. "It's just this!" He said angrily. "Why would Richard Carlisle publish something like this, whatever can he hope to achieve!"

"Why does Richard Carlisle do anything?" Mary said sardonically.

"But he must know it's all lies."

Mary took her husband gently by the hand and led him to a bench, she sat and smoothed her skirts as he sat beside her.

"Matthew, there are some other things I need to tell you..." She began.

* * *

><p>Matthew Crawley stared at his wife incredulously. "I don't believe it!" He said furiously as he got to his feet. "What does it take to get that poisonous vermin out of our lives for good! He places a spy in our home, has James and I placed in quite extreme danger and still hopes that in some way you will want to be his! It completely beggars all belief! And you say that bloody wife of his wanted you to... oh I can't even begin to..."<p>

"Matthew, you really must try and calm down."

"What I am going to do is make sure that bloody newspaper pays for the lies it's printed."

"Matthew!" Mary said sternly.

The tone of her voice caused him to actually smile for the first time. "Sorry."

He resumed his place on the bench, his eyes searching her face.

"I hate that this has been... your name brandished all over the newspapers like a..."

Mary shrugged. "At least this is a scandal that we can prove is untrue."

He nodded before placing a hand gently over her still flat stomach. "We're having another child." He said in slight awe.

Mary placed her hand over his. "Yes, yes we are."

So engrossed were they in each other. The maid was almost upon them before they noticed her.

Sarah Smith was racing across the grass, her hair wild and cheeks pink with exertion.

"Whatever is the matter?" Mary asked in concern.

"M'lady... Sir..." Sarah said bobbing up and down for all she was worth.

"Spit it out." Mary snapped.

"Miss Anna milady... she looks to be having the baby.


	33. Aftermath

**A/N Oh the Drama! Is nothing ever simple chez Downton? The aftermath of the revelations are set to one side as another more domestic drama unfolds in the Bates' household. Richard Carlisle seems positively spry and Stevens is unravelling.**

**Thank you everyone who continues to support this little story. If I was wearing a hat I would doff it.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>The small sitting room of the cottage Anna and John Bates shared was strangely quiet. On one side John sat in the wing backed chair, his stick by his side. For what felt like hours he had been pacing up and down, finally Mr Matthew had convinced him to sit.<p>

He wanted to be upstairs with Anna, but as Lady Sybil had said, not unkindly, he would be no use to anyone, men just get in the way in these things.

John was grateful Lady Sybil was home. Not only for her own sake, but for that of his wife and soon to be child. The doctor had visited and the rest of the ladies would do their best, but it was no substitute for an experienced nurse, especially as the child appeared to be in a hurry to enter the world.

When the pain began John had barely known what to do, he had sent word to the Abbey and could have cried when Lady Sybil had arrived and immediately taken charge. Lady Mary was in attendance of course. The social order seemed to have been turned on it's head with two daughters of the house waiting on a housemaid.

Mr Matthew sat with him, the silence was uncomfortable.

"The waiting is the hardest part." Matthew said conversationally.

Bates just nodded. He had never been one for idle chit chat, and least of all when his wife was going through so much.

There was a sound from the staircase and both men instinctively leapt to their feet. Mary appeared with a towel draped over her arm and bowl in hand.

"How is she M'lady?" Bates asked anxiously.

Matthew couldn't help but notice the briefest moment of worry before it was replaced by the brightest of smiles.

"She couldn't be doing better Bates, you should be fiercely proud of her."

Bates nodded.

"Why don't you go for a walk, clear your head. There is nothing any of us can do for the moment." She added kindly.

"If you don't mind M'lady, I really would much rather be close to hand."

Mary smiled and nodded in ascension before continuing towards the kitchen. Matthew followed in her wake.

"How is she really?" He asked in a hush tone once they were out of earshot.

"I just told you." Mary said brightly.

"Mary Crawley, I have been the expectant father... no-one ever tells you the truth."

Mary sighed and glanced quickly towards the door. "Sybil is concerned that the baby hasn't turned around properly. Anna is quite weak but is doing her best. I have asked Smith to fetch Doctor Clarkson."

"So it is really serious then?" Matthew asked.

Mary nodded, the worry etched on her face.

"You shouldn't overdo things." He said kindly. "There is no point in making yourself ill as well."

"I am perfectly well, and if I had not insisted on Anna staying on perhaps she would not be in this position." Mary said, her voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I have been so selfish. Oh Matthew, I will never forgive myself if anything goes wrong."

Mary allowed herself to be pulled in his arms as he kissed the top of her head. "This is not your fault. Anna wanted to stay at work, and we lightened the load as much as possible."

"I should have insisted she stay at home. I just did not want to be without her." Mary muttered into his chest.

"And she did not want to be without you. As soon as you realised something was wrong you immediately sent her home. There is nothing more you could have done."

Mary pulled away and indicated the bowl. "I had better get back."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile in the sitting room at Downton Abbey, Cecily Carlisle sat confronted by the current and Dowager Countesses of Grantham. Tea had been served.<p>

"This is really very awkward." Cecily said.

The Dowager Countess pursed her lips. "That," she said purposely, "is something of an understatement. What we would like to know, _Lady Carlisle_, is what you propose to do about it?"

"Me?" Cecily said.

"Was it not your newspaper which printed this piece of libel?" Cora said calmly.

"I believe the courts in America tend to have a field day with this kind of thing Cora, isn't that right?" Violet said sweetly.

"Indeed. My mother will make sure the best libel lawyer she can find will be shipped over straight away once she hears how her favourite granddaughter has been so maligned."

"I would be surprised if your company has any money left by the time we are done with it." Violet added spitefully.

"This Stevens woman, she has already been let go... and of course we will print a full retraction." Cecily said.

"But this is my daughter's reputation we are thinking of. Not to mention that Matthew will be looked upon as a cuckold."

"Which is why we will print the retraction." Cecily responded with more force.

"I think what Cora is trying to say, oh so subtly, is that mud sticks." Violet said.

"Richard is obviously behind this." Cora added.

Cecily took a sip from her tea cup. For Richard to have put her in this position was completely insufferable. All details of stories going to print should have gone through her, yet she was immediately bypassed. She had also read the story on the journey to Downton and Richard's voice screamed from between the lines. If Yvette Stevens had written that story then Cecily was a monkey's uncle. What she could not understand is how Richard thought he could get away with it. He must have known that his claims could not be backed up, he knew it was all a tissue of innuendo and hearsay, not one word of it could be based in fact. Whatever had gone on in Ireland had clearly tipped her husband's delicate psyche over the edge, one thing was for sure, now he no longer appeared to be thinking rationally.

* * *

><p>Following an impressive lunch at his club, Sir Richard Carlisle decided to walk the few streets back to his London offices. The sun shone on the pavements of the capital and he felt good, as though a great burden had been lifted from his mind. Just as he approached the impressive building on Fleet Street a figure stepped out from on of the doorways and barred his way.<p>

Yvette Stevens was clearly the worse for wear. Following her exchange with Lady Carlisle, she had travelled down from Yorkshire in such a hurry that she had neither washed or changed, merely packed her belongings and made to get as far away from Crawley house as was reasonably possible. Her only thought was to find Richard and it was reasonable to assume that he would appear at his offices eventually. It was while she was waiting that she had seen the front page story about Lady Mary Crawley, and to her horror, the name cited as the author. She had retired to a public house and taken a brandy for the shock. It was followed by another. Now as she made her way back to the newspaper offices she had happened upon the very man she had been waiting for.

"Richard!" She exclaimed brandishing the headline. "Look what the bitch has done to me!"

The knight looked around in some embarrassment before grabbing Steven's arm and steering her forcefully towards a side street where they would be out of sight.

"Look at the state of you!" he hissed.

Stevens was not to be put off. "Have you seen this?"

Richard took the crumpled paper and smiled. "Yes, I thought it was rather clever."

"Clever?" Stevens screeched.

"Do keep your voice down, you are making quite the scene."

"Making a scene. Don't you see, she has destroyed me! The Crawleys are never going to take this lying down. They are going to be after our blood."

"Your blood. You were the spy in their camp. You're a resourceful girl, I am sure you will be able to come up with sufficient evidence to back up your story." Richard said, a smug smile on his face. "The newspaper cannot be held completely responsible for a journalist who has her own axe to grind."

Even in her woozy state, it suddenly dawned on Yvette that this was nothing to do with Lady Carlisle.

"You..." She said, pointing at her former lover. "It was you who did this."

"Of course it was." Richard snapped. "Tomorrow we will print a retraction, there will be apologies to the family and you will have been formerly dismissed. But once Pandora's box has been opened, it is impossible to get all the contents back inside."

Stevens gaped.

"What I mean is the story will have been read, it will be in the public consciousness and there is no smoke without fire."

"But... why?" Yvette asked.

"Because it's time Lady Mary Crawley and her bloody husband were knocked from their pedestal. The role of a cuckold will eat away at Matthew Crawley and once the rot has set in, she will stay shackled to the man until eventually the rejection and pity get the better of her. Then I will be waiting."

Stevens could not believe what she was hearing. "But what about me? I thought you and I..."

Richard laughed. "You and I? Of course not! You were useful to me, nothing more, and what about you. You knew what you were getting into."

She bit back tears that threatened to overflow. "You never loved me?"

"Of course not, you're ridiculous."

Yvette gazed at her feet.

"Oh for god's sake, you're not going to cry are you?" He said savagely. His wife's harsh words came back to haunt her. Perhaps the Carlisle's had more in common that she thought.

She could almost hear the sneer of contempt in his voice, so it was with a great deal of satisfaction that she was able to life her head and look him squarely in the eye.

"Dismissed." She said.

"What?"

Funny how the human mind can flit from one thing to another and settle on the solution to your woes as if completely by accident. Lady Cecily Carlisle. If someone had told Stevens she would one day be grateful her lover's wife, she would have laughed in their face, but now she had reason to be just that... grateful.

"This story was printed this morning... after you're wife already dismissed me... yesterday."

Richard's brow creased in question.

"I could not be responsible for the story. That means they will all know who was."


	34. A Woman Scorned

**A/N Lady Mary is on the warpath. If I was Richard I would be afraid, very afraid indeed.**

**Thank you once again to everyone who is supporting this story, for all the reviews and follows ect, ect, you're all fab.**

**Enjoy x**

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><p>The noise had been unbearable, it had been going on for most of the evening. Several times Matthew had needed to restrain John Bates to prevent him running up the stairs to his wife. Matthew remembered that feeling only two well, but at least he'd had the comfort of knowing the twins births were relatively normal. Anna was weak and her cries of pain etched their mark across her husband's face.<p>

John sat in the chair now, his hands gripping the arms so tightly that his knuckles shone white. There was silence... a deathly silence that caused both men to get to their feet and stare at the door. After what seemed an age there was the unmistakeable sound of an infant cry.

Footsteps on the staircase heralded the arrival of Lady Mary. Hair slightly dishevelled and eyes damp with unshed tears, she came into the sitting room as she wiped her hands on a towel.

"Bates... you have a son." She said with a smile.

"And Anna?" He asked nervously.

"She is very tired, but Sybil says she will be fine once she has rested."

A huge smile of relief broke over the valet's face. Matthew held out his hand.

"Congratulations Bates." The older man shook the proffered hand vigorously before turning to Lady Mary.

"Milady, I cannot thank you enough... really, for everything you and Mr Matthew and Lady Sybil have done... Anna and I will never forget it... I am so grateful."

Mary smiled indulgently at the uncharacteristic babbling from the man. "Really Anna did all the work, we just provided moral support. You can go up if you like."

Bates nodded and limped towards the staircase. He did not climb straight away, but rather stood staring up the stairs.

"She really is quite well." Mary said reassuringly.

"It's not that." The valet said with a slight catch in his voice. "I have just realised... I'm a father."

Once they were alone, Mary put her arms around Matthews neck and rested her head against his shoulder. "I don't know how Sybil did it." She said, "The baby was breach, but somehow she managed to turn it. Oh Matthew I have never been so frightened in my life."

He squeezed her tightly. "You did it together."

She lifted her head and brushed her lips against his, their mouths opening to deepen the kiss.

"Did I mention how much I have missed you Lady Mary Crawley?" He said as they paused for breath.

"I don't think you did Mr Crawley," She replied, her nose nuzzling against his until her lips could find their mark again.

"Do you think it is too early in the evening for me to show you properly?" Matthew smiled mischievously.

"I don't think John Bates sitting room..."

He waggled his eyebrows playfully. "I was thinking more of the confines of a country solicitors study."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Well it is rather too late for us to have to worry about being careful." He added.

* * *

><p>"Do we really have to?" Mary said snuggling down into Matthew's shoulder as he tried to get out of bed.<p>

"Five more minutes." He replied, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Ten more minutes." She said into his neck.

Their love making had been urgent but gentle and lasted what remained of the night. A few short hours of sleep and Matthew was trying, unsuccessfully as it happened, to get up.

"There is no rush." Mary said sleepily.

"There is of course the small matter of a certain newspaper article." He said.

She pulled away and sighed. "With all the excitement of yesterday, I had all but managed to put that odious thing completely out of my mind. It is really most tiresome that I do actually care what people think."

"It is of course complete hokum. Carlisle has really dropped the ball this time. He must know that to malign the reputation of two people with no proof whatsoever has to be suicide in his business."

Mary brushed a finger across his cheek. "My knight in shining armour is planning on going into battle for my honour?"

"He will of course claim that the Nanny, Stevens, that she is the one who wrote the article, but I think I can prove that as owner of the newspaper, Carlisle has a duty of care to ensure that the information that he prints is based in fact."

"So what is our plan Sir Matthew, and how can this fair maiden help?"

"The fair maiden is charged with keeping the female members of this family out of this while the male Crawley's actually deal with Carlisle and his lies."

Mary stared at him, her eyes widening slightly. "Oh come now Matthew, we both know that is never going to happen."

* * *

><p>Mary absent mindedly slipped on a bangle as Smith finished putting up her mistresses hair.<p>

"How is Mrs Bates my lady?" Smith asked.

"The birth was certainly a trial for her, but Doctor Clarkson is keeping a close eye on her, and she and the baby will be fine."

The younger woman jumped as the door opened to reveal the master of the house.

"You will not believe this." He said brandishing the day's publication.

"I'm sure I won't." Mary said coolly.

"On page five... page five... a mere paragraph suggesting that the newspaper was the victim of a disgruntled employee's revenge. That Stevens had been dismissed and _somehow_ managed to get the piece through without the owners of the paper realising."

"Let me see." Mary said holding out her arm, but remaining still in order that Smith could continue with her hair. She read the small article.

"Carlisle need not think he is going to get away with this." Matthew said crossly.

"It's all smoke and mirrors with Richard, you know that Matthew." Mary said waving the newspaper so that he could retrieve it.

"I am putting a call through to Mr Murray this morning. There most certainly must be some legal precedent..." He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Begging your pardon Sir." Moseley said, ensuring to keep his eyes averted. "But Mrs Crawley... your mother is on the telephone."

"I will be there directly." Matthew said as the door discreetly closed.

"Oh, just what I need. I suspect she will have seen the newspaper." Matthew said with an exaggerated grimace. "I had better face the music. Still, with luck, news of the baby will distract her?"

"Let us hope so." Mary agreed as her husband left the room.

"Although I don't think we can hold much hope of that." She directed towards the lady's maid.

Smith fiddled with the last of the hair pins as Mary watched her in the mirror.

"Was there something else Smith?" Mary asked.

"It's not really my place my lady." the maid mumbled.

"Spit it out." Mary said patting the side of her hair.

"It's just this nasty story in the newspaper..." The girl tailed off.

"Yes, what about it?"

"It isn't true is it my lady. Why would the newspaper write things that aren't true?"

Mary was impressed how far the young woman had come in a relatively short time to make such a statement.

"Unfortunately, sometimes people tell lies, but don't trouble yourself."

"It's just... Mrs Bird was saying people will believe anything if it is written in black and white."

"Yes." Lady Mary agreed a little sadly. "No doubt they will print a retraction, but people are far more interested in juicy scandal than they are a boring apology in small letters somewhere near the back."

"What I was thinking my lady, was about my cousin Katy."

Mary raised an eyebrow.

"When we were all little together Katy would always be getting into trouble, so before she could get punished she would tell my ma about something one of us other kids had done."

"So you mean deflect attention away from herself onto someone else?"

"I was just thinking. If Miss Stevens wrote all those lies about you and Mr Matthew, could you not tell everyone about the mean things she did here?" The maid looked hopefully. "Mrs Bird thinks she had a fancy man." She added in a hushed whisper.

Mary laughed. "It's a nice idea Smith and I appreciate the thought, but I doubt the romantic liaisons of a nanny is going to grab the public's imagination."

Smith looked crestfallen. She had really only wanted to help.

Mary tapped a fingernail against her lip. "However, they very might well be interested in the exploits of a knight of the realm." She said almost to herself.

Smith caught her mistress's eye hopefully as Mary stood. There was a air of determination about the aristocrat.

"Smith, I think you could be on to something." Mary said and noticed a smile of such utter delight break out on the young woman's face.

"Well don't stand there grinning like an idiot. We have work to do." Mary said, not unkindly.

* * *

><p>Cecily Carlisle was not one to be flustered. She liked to think she could deal with any situation that life threw at her, but this whole debacle had become something of a trial. Not only had Richard committed the most heinous media crime, but now he honestly thought he could get away with a half hearted printed apology. It was clear from her interview with the Dowager Countess and her daughter in law that they held Cecily completely responsible for being unable to control her husband. Now to add insult to injury, he was also currently refusing to respond to any of the many messages that Cecily had sent to the London office. There were many things Lady Carlisle would tolerate, many indignities she could bear, but being ignored was not one of them. It was that more than anything which was currently driving her to distraction. She had all but made up her mind to travel to London that very afternoon and dare Richard to ignore her in person, when the bell heralded the arrival of a visitor to Haxby Park.<p>

"Lady Mary Crawley." The butler announced primly. Cecily got to her feet as the younger woman was shown into the vulgar sitting room.

Mary took off her gloves as she glanced around the room, her expression unreadable.

"Lady Mary, to what do I owe the pleasure? Would you care for some tea?" Cecily asked with faux brightness. If the matriarchs of Downton had not been trial enough, Cecily was not looking forward to what the injured party was going to say.

"Yes." Mary said with a smile which did not quite meet her eyes. "Some tea would be delightful."

The butler scurried away as Mary took an invitation to sit.

"How are you?" Cecily began as an opening gambit.

Mary fixed her with a steely stare. "The victim of a vicious and libellous story." She said haughtily. "Let us not beat around the bush and pretend we are friends Lady Carlisle..."

"There was a retraction in the paper today, did you see it?" Cecily asked, looking around for her own copy.

Mary gave a snort of derision. "Yes, a paltry piece which I suspect will be missed by the vast majority."

For her part Cecily wished she were not being made to feel as though this was all her fault. She had no part in it, in fact she was the one who brought it to the family's attention, yet here she was, the focus of their anger.

"What do you people expect me to do!" She asked in sheer frustration.

Mary smoothed her skirts. "I expect you to help me make it right... and I believe that we may also achieve your own aims at the same time."


	35. Closing in

**A/N Well I think we are finally at the penultimate chapter (possibly, there might be two more depending on how dastardly Richard Baldy Carlisle decides to be. **

**I think you may be ok with this one. I don't feel that valerium or smelling salts will be required. It's all getting jolly 'DUN DUN DUUUUUN!"**

**Thank you once again for all your kind words and encouragement. It really means the world to me, so thank you, thank you, thank you.**

**Enjoy. x**

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><p>Tom Branson watched his wife sleep. She looked peaceful. It had had been a long time since he had seen her look that way. Normally in her sleep she would toss and turn, but here at Downton, she finally seemed to be rested.<p>

It had been a mad evening. Arriving at the Abbey, they had just been reunited with Michael and the family before Matthew, Lady Mary and Sybil had rushed off to Anna's aid. It was typical of her, one of the reasons he loved her so much.

Michael had clung to his neck as she had dashed away. She'd turned briefly and blown a kiss, and then she was gone.

Edith and her young man had already disappeared and the Dowager Countess and the Countess were already rounding on Lady Carlisle like a pair of wolves. That just left Tom, Michael and Sybil's father. The twins stood a way off on the grass, Lily-beth beckoning to Michael.

"Why don't you go and play with your cousins for a little while?" Branson said lowering Michael to the ground.

"You and Ma will still be here?" The little boy asked, looking at his father owlishly.

Tom gave a quick glance towards his father-in-law. "We are not going anywhere, I promise."

This seemed to satisfy the child, who turned and ran to the other children.

The Earl had indicated that he should go into the house.

In the library Tom felt stiff and out of place. He had not been alone with the Earl since... not since the man had tried to pay him to stay out of Sybil's life. That seemed a million years ago now.

"I know it's early... but I need a drink." Robert said crossing to the sideboard. He waved the decanter at Branson in question. The former chauffeur nodded quickly. He felt as though he was standing to attention.

"Do relax man. You are, after all..." Robert paused as if he couldn't quite believe he was saying this. "part of the family."

It was awkward too for the Earl. He had been grateful to Branson for his help in clearing Bates, and he believed he had shown that gratitude, and acceptance. But on every other occasion he had been in the mans company, Matthew had always been present. It was as though his heir was a bridge between the two, able to relate to Branson and himself because they could not relate to each other. Now they found themselves in just that situation, they had to get along.

The uncomfortable silence stretched on as Robert handed his son-in-law a tumbler of whisky. He sipped and regarded the younger man. Branson held his gaze, unwilling to be intimidated.

"I understand they found the group who was really responsible for the bomb?" Robert said eventually.

"Yes, a group called the Fenian men." Tom took a large mouthful from his glass and grimaced as the liquid hit the back of his throat.

The Earl smiled. "Scotch I'm afraid, not as smooth as the Irish."

Tom coughed, but returned the smile. "You should try some Potcheen, that would really put hairs on your chest."

He took another sip.

"Look... Tom... I know things have been difficult for you and Sybil, and this exile must be..."

"I can never go back again." Tom said sadly as if the realisation had only just dawned on him.

"Because of Sybil you have lost your home..."

Tom looked the Early squarely in the eye. "No... you don't understand. It will be hard not to be part of Ireland's future, but Sybil and Michael, they are my home."

Robert nodded. "I want you to know that I will do anything I can to help."

Tom opened his mouth but was interrupted.

"Before you refuse, it is nothing more than I would do for Matthew, or indeed will do for James, so please do not feel it is condescension of any kind. I know you want to make your own way in the world and I respect that, but it would be a great boon to me if you would allow me to help. I feel my conscience would benefit."

It was then Tom Branson realised how difficult it had been for the Earl. Now that Tom had Michael he had realised first hand the protectiveness of a father... had he not worried the Crawley twins would not accept his boy? He should have realised the children of a man like Matthew would have better manners, but still his own prejudices had blinded him. Now perhaps it was time to really accept that he was part of this family. So he had shook Robert's hand and he felt a new chapter beginning.

Now, as he watched his wife sleep, Tom wondered once again what the future would hold.

Sybil stared and opened her eyes. "Mmmm." She said closing them again. Immediately they sprung back open as her hand came up to touch Tom's face.

"What are you doing?" he laughed.

"I am checking you are not a dream." She replied.

He bent his head to plant a kiss upon her lips.

"Does that feel like a dream?" He asked.

She shook her head smiling and pulling him towards her, pulled the eiderdown up over them.

* * *

><p>Richard Carlisle reclined in his office chair with his hands behind his head and gazed out of the window. He had expected more from her. Some kind of reaction to the story... a telephone call... the husband coming in here blustering and threatening legal action... even an outraged Lady Mary Crawley herself, but nothing had been forthcoming.<p>

Stevens had been a surprise, and he was furious with Cecily for having the presumption to let the woman go, but still, what did it matter, in fact it could even work to his favour. He would simply claim that the story was due to her being a vengeful former employee if the worst came to the worst. The retraction had been printed, small and inconsequential, and Richard should have been feeling vindicated, his desire for revenge sated. Strangely he did not. No reaction. It left a hollow, bitter taste in his mouth. He had printed the most dastardly scandal and there had been nothing. The whole thing confused him greatly.

Of course Cecily had been beside herself. He knew that she had travelled back to Yorkshire, and he had also been steadfastly dodging any attempts that she had made to contact him. In fact he almost expected her to walk through that door at any moment.

He wished he knew what Lady Mary was thinking, how Crawley had reacted. Were the cracks in their marriage being widened to epic proportions? How soon, Richard wondered, before he could contact her... a week, a month? She would be angry, the question is how long before that anger subsided and she saw he was just being cruel to be kind? She would see how this 'scandal' would set her free from her loveless boring marriage. It was just a matter of time.

He wished he still had eyes and ears around her. If only Stevens hadn't been so careless... or she had been able to recruit the new maid. It was frustrating not to know what was going on. Cecily would be no use... a small smile began to spread across his features. But he did know someone who would be aware exactly what was going on. The question was, given the circumstances, where would Lady Rosamund's loyalties lie.

The Lady in question was wondering that very same thing as her niece and her companion sat in her drawing room.

"What on earth leads you to believe that Richard will come here, or even contact me for that matter. The article was pretty inflammatory, and he must know that the family will be furious." She said sharply.

"But he will also not be able to resist not knowing the effect of his little stunt." Mary replied.

"Lady Mary is correct. Now that he no longer has a spy in the camp..." Cecily added.

"You mean you hope he doesn't?" Rosamund interrupted.

"There is no-one else." Mary said firmly. "Therefore, his desire for information will outweigh any qualms he may have."

"You hope." Rosamund said, her lips pursed, the very image of her mother.

"We know so." Cecily added, "It is basic psychology."

She looked from one visitor to the other.

"Come now Aunt Rosamund, you know how you love to be at the centre of any intrigue. Think of yourself as a kind of Mata Hari." Mary coaxed.

"And you are happy with this?" Rosamund's question was aimed squarely at Cecily.

Lady Carlisle glanced briefly at Mary before responding. "Perfectly happy."

Rosamund sighed in resignation. "In that case I really hope you know what you are doing, but I will help in whatever way I can."

* * *

><p>"So you finally believe me?" James asked. He sat next to Edith on a bench in the grounds. She fiddled with the engagement ring awkwardly.<p>

"Edith."

She nodded her head, but refused to look at him.

"Now can we please begin planning the wedding?"

"You must think me terribly silly and insecure?" She said, still twisting the ring around her finger.

James took her hand in his. "I don't think you insecure. You just did not realise how much I loved you, do love you. It's really very sweet."

"I just can't quite believe it." She said in a small voice.

"Edith, will you look at me?"

Finally she raised her head.

"Then it is up to me to make sure I spend the rest of my life proving it to you. Is that all right?"

She nodded her head shyly as James slipped the diamond ring back on her finger.

* * *

><p>Matthew came in through the front door of Crawley house and, as he hung up his homburg, he was struck by the quiet within.<p>

"Hello?"

Moseley's head appeared from the kitchen. "Good afternoon Sir, we were not expecting you home so soon."

"Right" Matthew said in some confusion. "Lady Mary and the children up at the Abbey?"

The butler hesitated. "The children are up at the Abbey. I believe in the absence of a Nanny Lady Sybil is entertaining them."

"I see, and Lady Mary?"

"Sir?"

It was painfully clear that this was not a question the butler wanted to answer.

"Lady Mary, where is she?"

"She is not at home Sir." Moseley said, his head disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Mr Moseley." Matthew said firmly. The butler reappeared looking somewhat sheepish. "I did not ask if Lady Mary was at home, I asked where Lady Mary was."

The poor man's face was an agony of indecision. Matthew felt for him, but he had a horrible sinking feeling and the more the butler stalled, the more his conviction grew.

"Very well Moseley, let me make this easy for you. Did Lady Mary tell you not to tell me where she had gone?"

With some relief the man nodded.

"Right, so I would be correct in thinking this has something to do with Sir Richard Carlisle?"

Again the man nodded.

"Uh, huh... so has Lady Mary gone to London to confront the man?"

His shoulders sagging in relief Moseley nodded his head vigorously.

"Then you have fulfilled your obligation to her Ladyship by not telling me. If however I have guessed that is a different matter."

Matthew turned on his heels and picked up his hat. Within moments he was on his way to the train station and he was not pleased.


	36. Springing the trap

**A/N Right my little Downton Officionardos. We are almost at the end of our epic adventure. This one ends on a cliff hanger, and what a hanger it is... fingernail stuff. Now... do I take a little break before I post the final chapter? Hmmm? Answers on a postcard. lol.**

**Thank you again for all your kind words and encouragements, it has been truly gratifying and I will reply to you all. I have just been concentrating on making sure each chapter is ready for daily posting. Thank you all so much.**

**Now, for the final time, get that fringed pillow ready to hide behind... it's gonna be a squeeker.**

**Enjoy. x**

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><p>At Sir Richard Carlisle approached the steps of Eaton Square he straightened his cravat. Despite not really knowing what kind of reception he would receive, he was sure that charm would overcome any objections.<p>

He rang the bell and waited for the butler to appear. Once admitted, he took of his hat and allowed himself to be directed towards the sitting room. He was shocked to see the occupant of one of the sofa's.

"Lady Mary!"

She turned elegantly to face him, her picture a mask of surprise. "Richard... what ever are you doing here?"

To his credit the knight collected himself admirably.

"I had come to see your aunt." He said crossing the carpet towards her. Something was different, he could sense a vulnerability. "I wanted to express my horror and apologies in person. You cannot imagine how mortified I was, I had been out of the country you see..."

She indicated that he should sit in the chair opposite, which he complied.

"As I said, I had been out of the country, and you could not imagine my shock at seeing the headline. My wife, Lady Carlisle, had been in charge."

He scanned her face rapidly to see her reaction. Mary lowered her eyes.

"I... I understand Richard. Please do not trouble yourself, what's done is done." She said.

Satisfied, he leant back in the chair. "So what brings you to the city?"

Mary brought a lace handkerchief to her nose as if to stifle a sniff. "I am visiting with Aunt Rosamund of course." She said simply.

"Of course, and where is your aunt?"

"She had gone to see our family solicitor. I am sure that she will be back shortly."

Never before had he seen her so defeated. Even when she believed Crawley to be in love with Lavinia, even when he had felt her slipping away from him and he had bound her tighter in her secret... this was a whole new level. Part of him felt wretched at having broken her spirit, the other part was elated.

"The solicitor? I hope the family aren't planning to sue me?" He said it with a laugh as though it would be the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"No." She said, shaking her head, "nothing like that... a separate matter... personal."

He leant forward. There was something in her demeanour which made him bold. He dared to take her delicate hand and was gratified when she did not pull away.

"Once you would have felt able to talk to me about anything Mary, even the most personal of matters. I do feel, in some way, a modicum of responsibility. I should never have left Cecily to her own devices, it was stupid of me. I fear she may have had an agenda of her own, an axe to grind. I confess a certain childishness towards you Mary, and I apologise. If I had realised Cecily would use such venting as ammunition. She has never quite accepted our previous relationship. I would never want to hurt you Mary, so if there is anything I can do, even if it just to lend a friendly ear."

"That's very decent of you Richard, but you know me. I like to keep my own council even when..." She allowed the handkerchief to return to her face.

"I apologise." She said composing herself and attempting a shallow laugh. "I am afraid my nerves are a little shot."

"It is only to be expected my dear." Richard said, his brow furrowed in outward concern. "Ladies in your condition often find themselves a slave to their emotions. That is why men would be completely unsuitable in such circumstance."

He laughed at his own joke and Mary managed a watery smile.

"You were always very understanding." She said softly.

"I am... very... " He agreed. "Now tell me... I promise I won't be shocked."

* * *

><p>As the train pulled into Kings Cross Station, Matthew Crawley felt his agitation growing. What ever had possessed Mary to confront Richard? Did she not recall the last time she had faced up to the man? He was clearly mentally unstable, and now Mary had gone off to poke the hornets nest. The worst part was he had no idea where they may be. Leaving the main building he looked right and left before hailing a cab.<p>

"Fleet Street please, as fast as you can."

* * *

><p>"I really can't Richard, thank you for your concern, but this is one problem you cannot fix." Lady Mary had gotten to her feet, and was now pacing the sitting room.<p>

"You forget Mary, there is very little that cannot be repaired, or removed with the right amount of money." He said arrogantly as he crossed his legs. An imaginary speck of dust was brushed from his knee. Richard's patience was waning. He was not one prepared to play games.

"Is it Crawley?" He asked coolly.

"Of course not." Mary replied.

"You see, I think it is." Why wouldn't she just admit it? "I think 'Mr Honour and Integrity' isn't exactly what you were hoping for in a husband."

When Mary did not reply he took this as ascent. She stood statue like, with her back towards him. Rising from his chair he crossed the room and stopped behind her. Tentatively his hands came to rest at the top of her slender arms. She seemed to start at his touch.

"I know you Mary." His voice was low and sent a shiver down Mary's spine. She wanted to leave, but she had to be brave.

"You and I are the same creatures, we always were. I know you harboured a silly romantic notion about Crawley, but now you see how ridiculous it was."

Mary still said nothing. She closed her eyes and steeled herself as his hands caressed her arms sending chills to her very core.

"Crawley was never right for you. He would always judge you, always believe the worst of you. He would not give you the respect you so desperately crave. I know you don't sleep together and for a woman like you, that must be a trial. But you don't have to stay there Mary. Bring the children, take a house in town, escape that small life that just does not fit you." His mouth was close to her ear now, she could feel his breath on her neck.

Finally Mary pulled away and turned to face her tormentor.

"You are suggesting that I leave Matthew? Why on earth would I want to do that?" As if by a switch immediately her demeanour had changed. Suddenly she was back to her haughty self.

"Because you do not love him." Richard was momentarily thrown off balance with the alteration of her mood.

"Whatever gave you the impression that I do not love my husband?" She laughed, a slight mocking tone to it.

"You are unhappy... you admitted as much." Now Richard was getting angry.

"I did no such thing. Matthew is perfectly aware that your little story was a complete fabrication so if your plan was to cause a rift between us then you are sadly mistaken." She said with a mirthless smile.

"What? Who said I... I explained." He said.

"You mean you attempted to implicate your wife?" Mary said.

The sitting room door was opened to reveal Lady Cecily Carlisle. She had dressed for the occasion in a shocking pink dress with jet black accessories. Her hair had been dressed to within an inch of it's life. By comparison, anyone else would have faded into the background.

"Cecily!" Richard said in some alarm.

"You see Richard, we know everything." Mary added as the mogul's head whipped from his wife back to her. "We know that you attempted to lead Matthew and James into harm when they were in Ireland..."

"We know that you sent that... woman to spy on Lady Mary and pretend to be a Nanny..." Cecily added.

"And most importantly we know that you are the sole author of that little work of fiction you call an article." Mary concluded.

Richard laughed. "So, the two of you thought you could bring me here and scold me? Ooooh..." he mocked, "I am so sorry, I have been a naughty boy..."

Mary and Cecily exchanged a look.

"But we know exactly why you did it." Mary said slyly.

"And why is that?" Richard said folding his arms.

"Because you still harbour a desire for her." Cecily said. "You still want her, isn't that right Richard?"

"Of course not, the woman is dead to me." He scoffed.

Mary took a seat on the sofa and laid her hands in her lap.

"This baby is Matthews." She said simply. She fixed her gaze upon Richard. "Do you want to know how it was conceived?"

"No!"

But Mary was not about to relent. "Across a desk actually. You see the passion just over took us. One moment we were talking and the next..." She allowed herself a smile at the memory. "The next we were both half naked as he lifted me onto the desk and..."

"Stop!" Richard said.

"Stop?" Mary looked to Cecily then back at the newspaper mogul. "I thought you wanted to hear every detail of our lives? I can give you numerous examples of how we make love, any time, any place as often as we possibly can. I can tell you all about the way he touches me, how he makes me beg for mercy..."

"I said stop!" Richard yelled. "It's not true. I know you don't sleep together. You are unhappy."

Mary laughed. "I could not be happier. That's why your silly story didn't affect us." She got to her feet. "I love my husband more than anything else in the world, and he feels the same way about me. What you have to understand Richard is whatever you do, however you act, whatever you say... nothing is ever going to change that."

Richard's fists were clenched tightly against his thighs.

"You have to understand Richard. This obsession with lady Mary... it is not healthy... you must see that?" Cecily said kindly.

"I am not obsessed." Richard rounded on his wife angrily. He was feeling trapped. The two of them. They should loathe each other. Mary should be a whimpering mess by now. She should have hated the publicity and Cecily, what did she care anyway?

"You wont admit it will you?" he accused, pointing a shaking finger towards Mary. "You won't admit that you made a mistake in marrying that tin pot solicitor."

"Why do you think she made a mistake?" Cecily said gently.

"Why? WHY!" Richard was almost hysterical. His face red he looked towards his wife.

"Because he will never be able to give her the things that she needs to survive in this world. He does not understand the dark soul that lives within her breast. He will not be able to satisfy her most carnal desires... that's why!"

"And you believe that only you can do that?" Cecily said, her voice calm. "Do you see that Lady Mary has her children, which Mr Crawley gave to her. She has her home and his protection and as you heard from her own lips, with regards to carnal desires..."

"Lies!" Richard said in almost a sob as he sank into one of the chairs, his head in his hands.

Cecily indicated to Mary that she should leave as she moved across to her husband's side.

"I think you know that they are not lies." She said as she stroked his hair. "I think you now see that Mary is never coming back to you..."

Carlisle raised his head just as Mary's hand reached for the door handle. He stood up suddenly, knocking Cecily aside. In a thrice he was across the room, his hand grabbing Mary's arm and almost dragging her backwards into the room. He let her go and stood with his back to the door, his chest rising and falling with the burst of adrenalin.

"Richard!" Mary said indignantly.

"No-one is leaving this room." He said dangerously.

"Richard, don't be silly." Cecily said as she brushed herself off.

Reaching within his coat Carlisle revealed a small pistol. He held it in a shaking hand.

"Where did you get that?" Cecily snapped.

"Ireland." He replied automatically. "I thought you would be happy I could defend myself." He said with an almost giggle.

"Put it away Richard." Mary demanded.

He aimed the weapon in her direction. "There have been so many chances Mary... I have given you so many chances... but you still refuse to see." His tone was wheedling... apologetic. "You and I are meant to be. But it you are too stubborn to see that..."

"Then what Richard." Mary asked, her eyes focussed on the barrel.

"Then if I can't have you I'm afraid no-one can."


	37. The End

**A/N Have we all recovered from yesterdays cliff hanger moment? Everybody taken their medication, had a deep cleansing breath, thought about nice things like puppies and kittens and flowers? Good. Because here we are finally at our last chapter. Yes boys and girls, we have reached the end of our little epic adventure.**

**I want to thank you all once again for those who took the time and trouble to review, watch and contribute to this story. Thank you so much. So for the final time.**

**Enjoy. x**

* * *

><p>Inside the sitting room all was still, a terrifying tableau where Mary and Cecily stared in horror at the deranged figure of Richard Carlisle.<p>

Well there had certainly been a reaction... but Mary had to concede this was a little more extreme than she expected. The whole idea was to tip Richard over the edge. According to Cecily, who professed to be an expert on psychology, Richard could not begin to get over his obsession until he had been forced to face it. His wife hoped that confronted with Mary and forced to see her marriage for what it really was, happy and fulfilled, the delusion he had constructed for himself would fall apart. It had to be completely destroyed before he could move on. Cecily, of course, would be there to help pick up the pieces and in doing so Richards affections would transfer to her.

For Mary's part, it had been purely a case of discrediting her former fiancé. She wanted him to admit that he had in fact been the one responsible for the false account in his newspaper. In reciprocation for Mary's help, Cecily had reluctantly agreed to print the whole story, with Richards part in it the main feature. Mary had always believed the best way to fight fire was indeed with fire.

However, had she known that the man was carrying a firearm she certainly would have considered this a most foolish endeavour. She wasn't even sure she believed in all the mumbo jumbo which Cecily had quoted. Several pamphlets had been thrust under her nose, which Mary had declined to read, but Cecily's passion had been such that the woman would have agreed to anything as long as Mary helped her with Richards 'cure'.

Now both women were trapped in really the most dangerous situation. In his current state, Mary would not have been surprised if Richard were not a more suitable candidate for Bedlam.

* * *

><p>Outside, the rest of the household was in complete uproar. Lady Rosamund had been unable to resist listening. If there was going to be a drama unfolding in her very home, she fully intended to know exactly what was happening. Therefore she had heard everything that had taken place. Summoning the butler, her first instinct was to have him summon the constabulary. Then she immediately rescinded the order. Consider the scandal? A madman loose in her house. The same madman who was known to be a companion of hers, who now held her niece hostage. The papers would have a field day.<p>

"Milady, need I remind you that the purveyors of the press are in fact on the other side of the door already." The butler said patiently as if he had read her thoughts.

"Quite so."

"And it is the Ladies' well being we must consider."

Rosamund's eyes narrowed. The man really was overstepping his boundaries.

"I know that." She snapped. "I just wonder if half a dozen constables charging into my sitting room may do more harm than good." She added in an irritated whisper. "You have to think of the bigger picture."

The butler nodded in ascent. "I apologise my lady."

"I should think so." She hissed as she pressed her ear back against the door.

* * *

><p>"Richard... there is no need to do anything hasty." Cecily said, her voice hardly betraying her own panic.<p>

"Hasty?" Richard laughed, his eyes never leaving his target.

"This is not the way Richard, you don't want to hurt Lady Mary." Cecily continued.

"How would you know what I do or do not want to do." Richard growled. "Always snooping around and trying to make us into some kind of romantic entanglement. That is not who we are Cecily, you and I are just two people who happen to occupy the same cage. Our marriage was purely convenient. You agreed to that."

The woman gasped at his venom.

"But you cannot control feelings Richard no matter how desperately you may want to, you of all people should appreciate that." Mary said practically.

"Yes." He said, waving the pistol slightly to indicate his wife. "But I have kept to my side of the bargain. She has a home and a position... everything she could possibly want."

"Is it so ridiculous that your wife should actually care for you?" Cecily said, her voice breaking a little.

"Listen to her Mary." Richard scoffed. "She does not really understand how these things work. You and I, we understand. We know that you marry for position, for a name, for an alliance. We play the game."

"Except I didn't play the game Richard did I?" Mary said as gently as she could manage.

"You? You are the mistress of the game. It was a simple choice, I could see that. Downton Abbey, that was your real goal, the one prize I could never offer you."

Mary shook her head. "You still believe that? After all this time... what will it take for you to really see that purely and simply I fell in love."

"No... no..." Richard shook his head as though to banish her words, "you see, you want to imagine that, because you're proud, too proud. You don't want to admit that you made a mistake."

"I have made many mistakes in my life. Many things that I could and should have done differently... but marrying Matthew Crawley was not one of them."

* * *

><p>The same Matthew Crawley was having no luck at Richard's offices. Despite several demands, pleas and recriminations, no-one was prepared to say where Sir Richard Carlisle could be located. It was only through sheer persistence that eventually his secretary let slip that the mogul had left the office for the day. It was of course completely possible that the man just wanted to get rid of him. Still there was nothing to be gained by further badgering.<p>

Standing on fleet street, Matthew was an agony of indecision. His stomach felt like it was tied up in knots. Somewhere in this city Mary was very likely face to face with Carlisle, and he had absolutely no idea where to start looking.

* * *

><p>"Lady Mary doesn't mean that Richard." Cecily said.<p>

It was obvious that Mary's repeated insistence that she had married Crawley for love was only managing to enrage Richard further. Mary however was becoming just a little bit angry about the whole situation. Would this ridiculous man ever be out of her life?

"Yes I do." Mary said folding her arms and facing the other woman. " I mean every word of it. And might I point out this whole thing is completely your fault. You were the one who said Richard had to face his demons. Well here I am..." She flung her arms wide and turned her attention to her captor. "Here I am Richard... your demon... your wife wants you to exorcise me... I want you to exorcise me... but you can't can you?"

Richard waved the pistol in warning.

"Mary..." Cecily said, her eyes wide with panic.

"Do you want to know why he can't do it?" She took a step towards him which caused the newspaper mogul to take a step back.

"Mary!" Cecily cried out as Richard aimed the weapon ready to fire.

The room was suddenly engulfed in an explosion of sound as the door exploded inwards. Richard instinctively whirled around to face the incomer, only to crumple immediately to the floor as Matthew's fist came into contact with his nemesis' jaw.

The former Captain, picked up the revolver as Mary ran to him. She threw her arms around his neck in relief. He immediately returned her embrace.

As they separated, Matthew held her at arms length. "What the hell were you thinking?" He said angrily.

"I..." Mary managed to say, for once cowed by his obvious fury.

"It isn't just you in danger, but the baby..."

"I did it for the baby." She countered. "I do not want our son or daughter to be the one Crawley to have a question mark in history or their parentage."

"They might not have had any parentage at all if I hadn't decided to call in on Lady Rosamund to see if she had any idea of this scheme of yours."

Mary managed to look a little shame faced.

"And you." Matthew turned upon Cecily. "This amateur psychology... playing around with people's minds and emotions. Carlisle needs professional medical assistance and if you really care for him I would suggest you ensure that he gets it before he seriously does some damage! The constabulary are on their way, and I have no doubt that Carlisle will be charged."

Lady Carlisle opened her mouth to protest.

"Please." Matthew said firmly as he held up his hand. "This has gone on long enough. It is time for it to end, and I am ending it, not with a scheme or a plan but with the law. It is time for him to face the consequences of his actions."

* * *

><p>The unmistakeable sound of running feet caused Charles Carson to look up from his ledger. He couldn't imagine it would be any of the staff. He stepped out of his pantry and immediately collided with a small dark haired boy. A tousled head looked upwards into the stern face of the butler.<p>

"Mr Michael, I am not entirely sure you should be down here." Carson said kindly.

"I was looking for you Mr Carson." The boy said politely. He had his mother's earnestness.

"Indeed." The butler said, amused. "And am I to imagine I am more interesting than your usual playmates?"

The boy seemed to be considering the idea before shaking his head vigorously. "No." He drew a deep breath as if remembering a speech. "Nanny asked me to say she realises that you are busy and about to serve dinner, and she is very sorry but would you mind very much sending us up some bicarbonate of soda."

The butler raised an eyebrow.

"We were making some decoupage and Lily-beth _accidentally_ poured some glue into George's hair." The boy tried to stifle a giggle.

"And Nanny believes that this is something that can be solved with bicarbonate of soda?"

The little boy shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose anything is worth a try." He sighed.

In the last few months life had settled down at the Abbey. Lady Sybil and Mr Branson now occupied a small property on the estate, with the former enjoying a very lucrative career writing for Lady Carlisle's newspaper.

The Lady had taken over the empire following the dreadful scandal with Sir Richard. It was understood the gentleman in question now resided under the close eye of the finest Harley Street could offer.

So young Mr Branson enjoyed the benefit of sharing the new Nanny Bates with his cousins. Clearly their entertainment whilst the adults prepared to dine had gotten out of hand, but he had no doubt Anna would be able to deal with it. A good thing too as she would soon find herself with an extra charge under her capable care. Lady Mary had been growing steadily by the week and there had been some speculation that twins may once again be in the offing. Sarah Smith fussed around her mistress as though she were made of the finest bone china. It endeared the girl to Carson who could entire concur with the concept.

Ruffling the boys hair, Carson indicated he should wait here while he fetched the soda.

One day Mr Matthew and Lady Mary would be in residence at Downton, and Carson could not imagine a finer couple to take hold of the reins. One only had to look at them to see how much they still loved each other and if stories from Mrs Bird were to be believed... but that was quite enough of that. For now Downton's butler was just happy that order had been restored. For the moment at least.


End file.
